


Hide Away

by likebunnies



Category: Sleepy Hollow (TV)
Genre: F/M, Friends to Lovers, Partners to Lovers, Tropes, Undercover as Married, Undercover as a Couple
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-12-25
Updated: 2017-12-01
Packaged: 2018-09-11 23:33:08
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 8
Words: 24,918
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/9042521
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/likebunnies/pseuds/likebunnies
Summary: Agent Abbie Mills has to go undercover for the FBI as an incredibly beautiful and wealthy married antiquities dealer... and Crane is coming along as her husband.Updated and FINALLY finished with chapters 7 and 8 and a little epilogue on chapter 8, also!





	1. Abbie

**Author's Note:**

> I started this in the beginning of 2016 as a birthday present for Tumblr's sleepymr. Then I got sidetracked by life and illness and travel and by them completely ruining this show that I loved. I removed it from AO3 a while ago, assuming I'd never finish it so why leave it there? 
> 
> It is set sometime during season three but before that horrible ending the writers came up with. Screw them.

“Seriously, sir?”

“Seriously, Mills.”

“No, listen... Danny... you have got to be kidding me,” she said with a nervous chuckle, but there wasn't that drop in the pitch of his voice as he had told her what her next assignment was going to be. He wasn't lying. “Undercover? And with Crane? You know he's just a civilian, right?”

“He fits the profile. Tall. White. British. A little strange. That matches Allison Andrews' husband closely enough that no one should notice. The buyer will be dealing with you most of the time... Mrs. Andrews. Crane's just window dressing in case they snoop too far. Besides all that, I know he'll watch out for your safety. He has at least proven that over and over again,” Agent Reynolds said, though he didn't sound like he really wanted to admit that last bit. He did that posturing thing he did every time he talked about her fellow Witness.

“You know he and I are just roommates, right, Danny?” she asked.

“Whatever you say, Abs.”

Abbie looked through one of the many folders Danny had handed her when he started telling her about the assignment.

“What really happened to the Andrews?” Abbie said, noticing that they had been used in the past as informants a few times.

“A boating accident last week while vacationing in the Maldives. We've managed to keep it quiet this long so this one last assignment could still happen. Their bodies are at Quantico and it's all hush hush. Bringing in this new client is a big deal, Abs. We need him to finally nail this art smuggling ring down,” Danny said and Abbie looked at him. It took forever to regain his trust after the whole Pandora thing blew up in their faces, so to speak. A lot of lies had to be told to get her job back after she returned from... there. “You going to be okay with this, Agent Mills?”

“What do the Andrews do... or what did they do? I need to know a little more about them. And what is expected of me – or us?” Abbie asked, still trying to take in everything in the first folder she was flipping through, including all of the pictures. Allison Andrews had been a beautiful woman, with ever-changing hair that ranged from a gorgeous natural style to long and straight depending on the woman's mood that day. Her clothing was certainly nothing Abbie could afford on her government wages. The shoes alone were something she could only dream of. And then there was Mr. Andrews. Aaron. Allison and Aaron Andrews. She held back a laugh.

“Mrs. Andrews started out working in a museum – all the pertinent information on how she got from that field into dealing with stolen artifacts and antiquities is in there. Her husband was always more of a mystery. Seems he dabbled in finance. Maybe. Like I said, he just has to be there if they get too curious. And to look pretty on your arm,” Danny said with a smirk. Abbie knew that a part of this had to be killing him, especially sending Crane anywhere to be her “arm candy.” She was not looking forward to telling Crane about any of this, especially the married part. And obviously he was going to need a different wardrobe...

“Crane can't go in there looking like he was just throwing tea into the harbor an hour ago. What or how...?”

“Clothes. The apartment... with two bedrooms... all taken care of in the budget. Try to stay within it, Abs. Please. But, you know, try to act like wealthy people in the city for the week,” he instructed and she wrinkled her nose. This wasn't something she was exactly used to. Maybe Crane would be better at it. He did grow up going to the best schools. Over two centuries ago.

“How do we do that?”

“I don't know. Do what rich people do in the city.”

“Like?”

“Hell if I know. Go see Hamilton I guess.”

*^*^*^*^*^*^*^*

“Aaron Andrews went to Cambridge–”

“No.”

“And got an MBA from Harvard –”

“Absolutely not.”

“You'll live. Besides, Crane, we aren't creating new cover stories. We have to be these people. You have to be a businessman of some sort and I have to be Allison Andrews, art historian and dealer of rare stolen antiquities. Oh, Jenny is going to love that. Anyway, my first degree – oh, double major so degrees – are in art history and anthropology from Howard. Nice, seeing they don't have anthropology there anymore... and I have an MA in art history from Columbia. I think I might be in over my head,” Abbie said, her brows knitted in concern as she looked away from the file and at Crane.

“At least you didn't go to Cambridge!” he said, his hands twitching in an animated fashion over this latest impertinence.

“I don't think that's our biggest problem. Why did Danny pick me for this?” Abbie asked, feeling more and more overwhelmed as she read through the pages and pages they would have to know in order to pull this off.

“Because he knows you can do it. You can do anything. I'm sure of it,” Crane said, giving up on complaining about his make-believe education and putting the kettle on the stove.

“We not only have to fake that, we have to look married. Believably married,” Abbie said. Crane turned from the stove, his eyebrow arched higher than she had ever seen it.

“Don't get too excited. Danny made sure we have our own bedrooms in our luxury apartment. But when we're out in public... if we're ever out in public together... we'll have to be natural. Like we've been married for five years now,” Abbie said, pondering that. She had never been in a relationship that long. Crane had been but during a completely different era. After five years, would this couple still hold hands? Did they lean into each other to tell stories only they understood? Did he still try to make her laugh? Did he finish her sentences? Could she finish any story he started telling? Would the two of them be able to do that with ease?

“Well, Lieutenant, we will just have to start practicing married life immediately. What would you like for dinner, my love?” he said and her heart actually skipped a beat when he said that word. She had been so excited to be called into Danny's office and back into his trust again but now, she wasn't sure what she had gotten herself into.

“I... uh... you don't usually start to cook until a lot later than this,” Abbie said, looking away from him and to the clock on the wall.

“See, we've been practicing for months now. We just have to get the rest of it down. The rhythm and flow of everyday life, oh, that we're good at. Very good. But now to look like we're in love...”

“For years. And married,” Abbie said, hoping this conversation would end soon. There was no doubt that she loved Ichabod Crane. But that was love. Being in love was another thing entirely and she willed her heart to stop whatever it was doing and focus.

She quickly found the autopsy photos taken at Quantico in one of the files and pulled them out, putting them on the kitchen counter in front of her. Even in death, they were both beautiful. Crane looked at them, too, picking up the one of Allison.

“A life ended too soon,” he said, returning the photo to Abbie. “Who is this man the FBI is so desperate to ensnare?”

“His name is Victor Lund. Remind me to call Jenny to see if she's heard of him. He is trying to get his foot in the door in the artifacts business. Nothing supernatural, I hope, just looking for rare pieces,” Abbie said, reading what little information there was from another folder spread out before her.

“And? Why is the FBI concerned and not local law enforcement?” Crane asked.

“Part of the art crime team... Allison Andrews had been working with them as an informant lately. I don't know why she had a change of heart about her profession but she did. This was a way to get to Victor Lund. He may be new in the artifacts world, but he's been around in the stolen art world for a while,” Abbie said, trying to piece it all together. “They are so close and after the unfortunate deaths of the Andrews, they didn't want to lose out on getting to him.”

“Doesn't sound too complicated. I'm quite certain we can pull off being this married couple rather convincingly,” Crane said. His tone was filled with a confidence she didn't feel. She was good at her job but this, showing emotions such as love and commitment to the outside world, was going to be new to her. She looked at Crane as he made himself busy in the kitchen, preparing her a cup of tea and setting it before her. He smiled as she took a sip. It was perfect and just the way she liked it.

Maybe they wouldn't have much to do to convince people of anything.

*^*^*^*^*^*^*^*

“Abbie, these kind of people can be dangerous,” Jenny said. Abbie rolled her eyes at her sister and pointed at the weapon and badge at her side. “Okay, okay. But are you sure the Andrews died in an accident? She was one of the best and if someone wanted to make a move on the antiquities market, it would be advantageous to take her out.”

“Witness statements and the autopsies can only do so much but for all intents and purposes, it looks like it was accidental. I think she was getting out of the business so it would be rather unfortunate if someone murdered her over that. And you know I'll be careful and Crane will be there,” Abbie said, ignoring her sister's smirk.

“I really hate that I'm going to miss the two of you being married, though with this current set-up you have around here, I'm not sure how it will be different. Unless you're finally going to–”

“Jenny,” Abbie said in warning. She didn't need her sister heading down that path. After her return, she needed a little more time to think before she was ready to even consider that. “What can you tell me about Victor Lund?”

“Not much when it comes to antiquities. I'm honestly surprised he has moved from stolen art to this but maybe these are easier to move,” Jenny said.

“And you should know,” Abbie said, giving her sister a knowing look.

“Definitely easier to get smaller pieces across borders than a stolen Gauguin, well, unless you're Crane and you get stopped at the border coming in,” Jenny said.

“He wasn't trying to hide anything so he was easy to catch. That and his big mouth. Why wouldn't customs look at these smuggled items just as closely?” Abbie asked.

“Are you asking me how I did it? You want me to tell that to my big sister in law enforcement?” Jenny said, raising an eyebrow and waiting for Abbie to go on.

“Yes, Jenny, I think you're safe telling me a few things. I'm hardy going to snitch on you now.”

“Who are you snitching on?” Crane asked, coming around the corner into the kitchen with a basket of laundry and looking very domesticated. He put the laundry by the washing machine and returned to the kitchen, going about making himself a cup of tea.

“I was about to tell Abbie some of my secrets to smuggling historical artifacts across the border. Hey, Crane, maybe you should listen. Save yourself a stay at the ICE detention center next time,” Jenny said, and she and Abbie laughed. Crane didn't look nearly as amused.

They listened intently as Jenny spilled all, or many, of the secrets she had kept over the years. Corbin really had done a great job of training her and Abbie wished he'd told her some of these things. It would certainly come in handy looking like she knew what she was doing for this assignment.

“Some agents on the art crime team will be up from DC tomorrow to brief me... us... more. They'll be the final judge on whether we can pull this off. That's not a lot of time to get our act together,” Abbie said with a nod to Crane.

“Yeah, and it reminds me to not stop in and visit you at work tomorrow. Don't want to have a run in with those guys again,” Jenny said, drifting off into some thoughts before shaking herself out of them.

“Again?” Abbie asked.

“I better be going. You two have a lot to work on. I'm sorry I'll miss the wedding–”

“There's a wedding? I thought the Andrews were already married, correct?” Crane asked as he played with a teabag in a cup of steaming water.

“She's just kidding. Goodbye, Jenny. I'll let you know how things go,” Abbie said escorting her sister to the door. She closed it and leaned back against it, looking at Crane. “If we mess this up...”

“We will not mess this up, Lieutenant, and if something goes awry, we have always managed in the past,” Crane said reassuringly.

“Maybe I'm just out of practice dealing with criminals who have no demons waiting somewhere to spring out at us. It will be a unique experience, having you there for something that is just a normal investigation,” Abbie said, pushing herself away from the door and going to the dining room table. She had started organizing the folders by what she felt was the most important facts she had to know going into the meeting tomorrow. Crane followed her there from the kitchen.

“The problem is so many of them start out normal,” he said. “They just don't end up that way.”

*^*^*^*^*^*^*^*

The meeting with the art crime team was going spectacularly bad. Crane and Danny started it out with their usual posturing while one agent in from DC looked on with exasperation that this is what all her work on this case had come down to.

“I assure you Agent Mills is one of the best. It will all work out, Agent Dwyer,” Danny said after Abbie got Crane to take a seat and stop fidgeting around.

“And this historic preservationist whatever he is?” Agent Megan Dwyer asked, turning to look at Crane as if he were the craziest thing she had ever seen.

“He has worked with local law enforcement and with us for years now. He'll be an asset on this, I promise,” Abbie said, watching as Danny nodded reluctantly. “The outfit he's wearing is for his job as the curator at the Hudson Valley Historical Society. He will be dressed and groomed appropriately for this assignment.”

Agent Seth McCormick crossed and uncrossed his arms several times, letting out a heavy sigh. Agent Dwyer mimicked her partner perfectly. “All right. It's not like we have much of a choice at this point. Agent Mills, you will be wired for any meetings you have with Victor Lund. You will follow our lead on this down to the letter. Meg and I have worked too hard for this to slip away from us now,” Agent McCormick said.

“Are you sure you two can pretend to look married?” Agent Dwyer asked. “You don't even look like you're from the same century.”

“Oh, yes. They most certainly can,” Danny said before Abbie or Crane could get a word in. “I've seen them in action.”

That put a smug little grin on Crane's face. Abbie would have rolled her eyes but too many people were watching her.

“Listen, I understand this is not at all how you wanted this to all go down. I get that. But believe me, I'm an expert at making things work after the original plans have been shot to hell. Crane and I have been doing our research. He is getting fit for the proper clothing this afternoon. I will be going tomorrow to be turned into Allison Andrews. It will all work out,” Abbie said, looking at Crane. He nodded.

They seemed to be the only two in the room sure that any of this was going to work out. Danny might be saying the words but she could sense a scant trace of doubt in him. McCormick and Dwyer looked like their careers were being flushed down the toilet at this very moment.

“There is so much you just don't know yet,” Agent McCormick said, his frustration evident in his voice. He pinched the bridge of his nose and sighed. “So much about Allie and Aaron you'll never know.”

“Obviously Agent Mills and I will never know as much about the Andrews as the Andrews knew about themselves. That is a given fact that we will just have to accept. But I assure you, supplied with the proper information, she and I will be able to complete this assignment with results that will satisfy all involved,” Crane said, speaking up for the first time in a while. All the other agents in the room turned to look at him. He rose from his chair and stood there, at parade rest, looking way more confident than anyone else here surely felt about this. “Now if you'll excuse me, I have a fitting in an hour for a pair of trousers. Agent Reynolds, it has been a pleasure as always. Agents Dwyer and McCormick, Agent Mills and I, or rather, my wife Allie and I will see you in the city later this week.”

Crane reached out for her hand to help Abbie from her seat, looking at her with a twinkle in his blue eyes as if she was the most precious thing ever to set foot in this building. She took his hand and he didn't let go like he normally would do once she was standing. Instead, he folded her under his arm, pulling her close like... a romantic partner would do. Abbie went with it, putting her head against chest and whispering absolutely nothing of importance to him as they walked in sync to the door. He chuckled at whatever it was he imagined she said, opening the door to let her pass through first, his hand settling on the small of her back as she went before him.

“I told you they could make it look like they've been married for years. I wasn't kidding,” Abbie heard Danny say with a hint of disappointment in his voice before his office door closed behind them.

To Be Continued


	2. Crane

Crane was certainly familiar with the workings of getting clothing fitted by a tailor. His uniforms had certainly been well-tailored, whether the coat was red or blue, and he even knew the famous tailor-spy everyone was singing about these days. Yet for some reason, this experience was different. Perhaps because this clothing was so.... different.

He had listened as the two DC agents commented on his attire and how this whole thing was going to fail with “Johnny Tremain” involved. It was for this reason that he didn't care how fitted these new trousers were going to be or how tight in the shoulders the coats might feel, he would do whatever needed to be done in order for the Lieutenant to succeed at this. Even if he had to get his hair cut a little shorter and trim his facial hair to look like the last pictures of Aaron Andrews. Thankfully, Mr. Andrews liked his hair a decent length.

“How do these feel?” Mr. Morton asked. Because of the timing, everything Crane would be taking with to the city would have to come off the rack. Mr. Ellis Morton expressed his deep regret that he wouldn't be able to fit Crane in custom-made suit. The older man had said something about him having the body for it but Crane didn't want to dwell on that. He would have to make do with what could be ready by tomorrow.

“These feel confining,” Crane said, adjusting himself in the trousers. He had learned to wear the undergarments Abbie had recently purchased for him, happy she went for the colorful boxer briefs and not those painful looking white briefs he knew some men favored.

“Considering you are used to that Paul Revere get up, I imagine these pants will feel different. But look at how wonderful they look on you! What a nice line they have instead of that sagging crotch. The women are going to love you,” Mr. Morton said, using his hand to flatten the front of the pants the best he could. He helped him try on a few shirts and taught him how to tie a fancier necktie knot than Crane had memorized off the internet last night. “Anything else you would like to try, Mr. Crane?”

“I'd like to try on a suit with a waistcoat if you don't mind,” Crane said. The tailor found him the perfect selection and although Crane knew he shouldn't since it wasn't really Aaron Andrews' style, he couldn't help himself. He now had enough shirts for a week and a nice selection of suits and ties... all just in case he had to be seen out with the Lieutenant.

Mr. Morton was going to get any alterations done overnight (with the bill going to the FBI) and would have everything delivered to the house before the car came to pick them up to go to the city. He knew he was going to have to shop for some casual clothing, too. He still detested the idea.

Just think of Abbie. Anything for Abbie.

He settled any final arrangements with the tailor and left the store, pulling out his cell phone to call Joe.

“Yes, hello. Crane here. I think I'm going to need a little help with something. Can you meet me... I don't even know where. Meet me in the archives and we can discuss it there,” he said, sighing heavily after he disengaged from the call.

At least from what he could tell in the pictures, Aaron Andrews was not one to wear skinny jeans or jeans of any sort. For that, he was most thankful.

*^*^*^*^*^*^*^*

“You could use this opportunity to... you know. Finally tell her exactly how you feel instead of dancing around the subject,” Joe Corbin said as he handed Crane another item called a polo shirt. Crane shook his head, rejecting this style once again.

“Since the Lieutenant's return, I have tried to broach the subject a few times and have determined for one reason or another, she's not ready. Perhaps it will take her longer to recover from her experiences than any of us imagined. She is strong but the human spirit can only stand so much,” Crane said, falling into a reverie as he remembered her first days home. There was a lot of crying and nightmares that woke everyone from their sleep, when they did sleep. There were a lot of nights the two of them just sat on the couch together watching the television as she fought off sleep for as long as she could. When she finally succumbed, he would cover her with a blanket and watch her all night from his chair.

“But still...”

“First and foremost, this is about her completing this assignment successfully. I believe that will help her in immeasurable ways. If we have a moment to discuss other matters, I will consider it,” Crane said, finally finding a shirt in a style he could imagine wearing. If he rolled up the sleeves, it would be casual enough and would go well with these things Master Corbin called “khakis” though they looked more like a light beige to Crane. He also purchased some casual brown leather boots that made it look like he was considering going on a hike. He wasn't ready to wear these things called loafers. Or Top-Siders. Or any of that. He had his limits. 

“There will be plenty of time while she’s not working. Time alone. Time to talk to her,” Joe said as they were walking out of the store. 

“The Lieutenant and I have plenty of time alone now. I don’t want to risk scaring her into thinking she has to make some sort of decision or feel a certain way. She had endured enough and her mind is completely on this assignment. I am going to now go get a hair cut and perhaps groom my facial hair. It has grown slightly longer than it is in any of the pictures of the man I am now supposed to be. I do not want the length of my mustache to be what ruins the day for Lieutenant Mills,” Crane said, hoping to find a barber close by that would be competent. 

“Yeah, it is getting a little Magnum-like,” Joe said, and Crane gave him a confused look. Joe shook his head and pointed toward the east. “Never mind. Try that place over there. I’ve never had a problem with them. But Crane, if you get a chance, talk to her.” 

Crane hated having his advice used against him one more time. He bid the young Master Corbin good day and carrying his packages, Crane walked toward the storefront with red, white, and blue spinning pole in front of it. 

*^*^*^*^*^*^*^*

Abbie hadn’t returned by the time Crane had gone to bed and he assumed she was doing her own shopping for a wardrobe to match Allison Andrews’ style. When he woke in the morning, he found a note on the kitchen counter explaining that she had to meet with the DC agents early today in the city and she didn’t want to wake him. Instead of them going together, the car would now be there in the afternoon to pick him up and drive him to the apartment where they would be staying. The Andrews often arrived separately since Mr. Andrews would often be doing business in a different part of the city. He was to come dressed as Aaron Andrews and needed to have his clothing packed in the bags she left by the dining room table. Crane carried her note to that room and saw what had to be the nicest set of luggage he had ever seen in any of his lives. The FBI wasn’t cutting any corners in this charade. 

He was brewing a cup of tea and reading the rest of her instructions when there was a knock on the front door and his suits were delivered from Mr. Morton’s shop. Abbie had left a note on the bag in which they were to be hung and he did that presently, leaving out the charcoal gray suit he was going to wear today along with an appropriate shirt and tie. The suit coat and trousers looked uncomfortable no matter how well they were tailored. Crane adjusted the breeches he was currently wearing and enjoyed his last few minutes of freedom. 

He was going to have to suck it up and do this for the Lieutenant. No matter how much the thought of sitting in a car in those trousers pained him, he’d do anything to make this work for her. Taking the necessary items up the stairs, he left them hanging on the back of his bedroom door before he took a long, relaxing shower. Crane certainly would have liked more time with Abbie to practice their married act. Did the Andrews still hold hands? Did they take walks together? Always eat their meals together? Or were they like so many modern couples who barely looked up from their phones and at each other? He knew they went on exotic vacations together. That was a good sign that they still enjoyed to spend time together. He certainly wouldn’t have to fake that with Abbie. 

Crane thought about how the Andrews had died. At least they were together during their last hours before the accident if it were indeed an accident. He wondered if Aaron had done everything on heaven and earth to save his beautiful wife. He couldn’t imagine not doing everything possible to save Abbie – again. 

He turned off the water and wrapped a towel around his hips before finishing his bathroom routine and packing the few items he had into a bag that had been left for that purpose. His hair was a good length and curled just like Mr. Andrews’ hair did in all the pictures and the barber was happy to give him a more scruffy look and trim everything. He went to stroke his mustache and it was hardly there. That might be worse than the trousers. 

With only an hour before the car was going to arrive, Crane got dressed and packed his bags for the trip to the city. The last thing he did before going out the door was put Aaron Andrews’ platinum wedding band on his finger, thankful that it fit. 

*^*^*^*^*^*^*^*

As the doorman arranged to have his bags taken up from the car to the apartment, Crane looked around at the neighborhood and the skyline. He had been to the city a few times since his return from the grave but never like this. Abbie had been a tour guide on those occasions, showing him wonders – and horrors – he had never imagined for this city back in the 18th century. He was trying to remember all the notes Abbie had left him on who and how much to tip (a notion he still felt was highway robbery) but before he could send the driver on his way, he saw the most stunning woman walking toward him. 

It was the Lieutenant but unlike he had ever seen her before. She was wearing a white, sleeveless linen dress that fit her curves perfectly and although he was used to her wearing boots with heels, he was not used to this. He could see her feet and her legs and Crane was suddenly very happy Abbie got this assignment while the weather was warm enough for her to dress like this. 

Her face beamed with a huge smile when she got close enough to recognize him not in his usual wardrobe and if they weren’t already “in character” he knew she would have made some joke about the cut of his pants or his choice of tie. Instead, she waved and continued walking toward him in those shoes that were simply impossible to fathom. 

“Aaron!” she called out and it took him a second to remember that was his name now. He waved and smiled back at her, still trying to take in the sight of how she different she looked from the first time he ever laid eyes on her in that sheriff’s department uniform with those... stiff trousers. 

“Allie, I just arrived,” he said, changing the timbre of his voice just slightly which made her cock her head to the side. “I haven’t even been up to the apartment.” 

He went to make a turn, to motion to the front door of the building, but before he could, she was before him, putting a hand on his now scruffy cheek and pulling him down for a kiss. This certainly wasn’t how he imagined their first kiss, as two other people, but he kissed her back anyway, his hands going to her waist and pulling her closer. Perhaps the kiss went on for a few seconds longer than was decent but the rest of the world be damned. She pulled away and fixed her lipstick with the edge of her thumb before taking his hand in hers. 

“It’s so good to see you! I missed you! Don’t worry about the apartment – we’ll have plenty of time to see it later. We have dinner reservations and I’m so glad the car is still here,” Abbie said, pulling him by the hand to the car. Crane opened the door for her and she climbed in before him. When they were both seated, her smile faded quickly which made his heart drop. 

“Something wrong, my love?” he asked. 

“We’re able to speak freely in here and in the apartment. They’re both property of the FBI and have been fully searched. The driver is an agent... so is one of the doormen. Other than that, we have to always be Allison and Aaron. On the streets. At restaurants. Everywhere. It seems someone might be on to the fact that the Andrews never returned from the Maldives on any normal flight. We have to convince the world otherwise. You and I have to play the part and play it well,” Abbie said, fixing her hair as she spoke. It was a looser curl than she had been wearing and although the style was beautiful, Crane hoped that it wouldn’t be too hard to return to her own natural hair. He liked that even more. 

“So what you’re saying is there is going to be a lot more kissing in public?” Crane asked. The look on her face told him that she didn’t think he was taking this seriously enough until he broke into a smile. She finally relaxed and smiled her smile, Abbie’s smile, not Allie’s smile, at him. 

“Perhaps there will be a lot more kissing in public. If I deem it necessary,” Abbie said. 

“I certainly hope it will be necessary,” Crane said, making her laugh. 

“We’ll see,” she said, taking his left hand in hers. “I see you found the ring.”

“I see you have yours, too. That’s rather... it’s...” Crane said, trying to come up with the proper word for the large diamond she had on her hand. It was accompanied by a smaller band of platinum that matched the one on his finger

“Ostentatious?” Abbie filled in for him. 

“That word does work in this particular case,” he said.

“As does expensive. Don’t lose yours,” Abbie said. She held out her hand and looked at the ring before catching herself and putting her hand on her lap. 

“It looks good on you,” Crane said. She didn’t say anything in return. “As does this entire ensemble.”

She reached out and tugged at his lapels. “I like this look on you, Crane. A lot. Though I do miss the boots. I have grown quite fond of the boots.”

“Don’t worry, Lieutenant. I brought them with me.”

“Crane! You can’t wear them. One look at those and everyone will know you aren’t Aaron Andrews,” Abbie chided. 

“I promise I will never wear them out on the street but what I do in the privacy of my own bedroom is certainly none of your business. I am assuming that fences are still as important here as they are at home,” he said, teasing her. 

“You can wear your boots to bed as long as I can take a long bath in that tub every evening. Wait until you see it. I have never seen anything so luxurious. You’ll love it,” Abbie said, looking at her watch. 

“I’m sure I will,” Crane muttered, trying hard not to think about her relaxing at the end of the day in any kind of bath, let alone the one he imagined would be in that building. He looked out the car window, hoping to quickly end any thought of her naked and soaking wet. 

They were now stuck in traffic and he was enjoying this time that they got to be themselves yet not quite ‘Ichabod and Abbie.’ Nothing was threatening to kill them immediately and it was nice to simply talk to her. They did a lot of that at home but this felt different. This felt like a holiday even though he knew all too well she had a job to do and everything could change fast. 

With his luck, this Victor Lund could very well be trying to call up the next tribulation with some artifact he was hoping to find. 

*^*^*^*^*^*^*^*

Dinner had left him unsatisfied. Not the company, obviously, but the serving sizes. He couldn’t wait to get back to their temporary home where Abbie had promised him she could order all the Chinese food he wanted. 

It had been rather odd trying to talk to Abbie as if she were no longer Abbie and he was no longer Ichabod. They had studied up on the the Andrews’ interests but those conversations didn’t come naturally yet and since the FBI was now worried that anyone could be listening in on them, they had to stick to certain topics, some more boring than others. 

Why couldn’t Aaron Andrews like playing Halo 5 instead of golfing? And Abbie had already warned him enough times that he was not to discuss the “real” Alexander Hamilton and especially not during any discussions about financial management and banking. Nor was he to discuss any of his other peers but he had heard that lesson enough over the last few years to slip up on that. 

They walked the last few blocks to their building, Abbie wearing his suit coat now in the chilly evening air, holding hands. He had held her hand many times before and knew very well how soft her skin was and how small her fingers were. But still, this felt different. 

“What are the plans for the morrow?” he asked. 

“I have a meeting in the morning but you and I have most of the day free. Unless you have some important meeting with an investor?” Abbie asked. 

“No, my love. I’m free all day tomorrow, too,” he answered. No one had ever told him what he was supposed to do to make it look like he actually did something. It’s not like he had the archives to hang around in all day. He hoped that everyone thought Mr. Aaron Andrews worked a lot from home. 

Abbie shivered and Crane pulled her closer, tucking her under his arm much like he had done in the field office where she worked. She settled in, her head resting on him, and something about this felt so natural. They reached their building and the doorman welcomed them, or at least welcomed the Andrews. 

She only let go of his hand when the elevator doors closed and she had to enter a code. Crane missed her touch immediately. He was going to have to make sure they spent most of their time together outside of this building and the car so he could hold her hand and kiss her as often as “necessary.” 

“The code for our floor and for the front door are the same. It’s your birthday,” Abbie said and Crane gave her a puzzled look. 

“Which one?” 

“Which one what?” 

“Which birthday? August 18th or Aaron’s birthday? January 7th?” Crane asked. 

“Yours. They actually needed a six digit code so it’s 081849. No one will ever suspect you of being born in a year that ended in the number 49 whether that was 1749 or 1949. Or else you look real good. Damn good,” she said, playing with his lapels again. Crane could feel the blush rising to his cheeks and he just shook his head at her. 

The elevator came to a stop on their floor and he was still trying to comprehend how two people could take up an entire floor of a building this size but then Abbie informed him that they actually took up two floors. The lower floor was the living area and the bedrooms were on the upper floor. She let him enter the code to the door to make sure he could work it properly and when it beeped that it was unlocked, she opened it and motioned for him to go in before her. 

He didn’t get very far before he stopped in his tracks. “God’s wounds!” he exclaimed as Abbie stopped beside him. 

“I think you and I will be very comfortable here, Mr. Andrews,” she said, linking her arm in his. 

“I think you’re right, Mrs. Andrews. Now where is that bathtub you were telling me about? And for heaven’s sake, can we order some real food?” 

*^*^*^*^*^*^*^*

To Be Continued...


	3. Abbie

Abbie stared out at the spectacular city view from her bedroom window as she curled up in what was probably the most luxurious bed she had ever been in. The sheets were so soft and smooth and she was tucked under the coziest down comforter ever, just the perfect weight for the weather outside. 

But she wasn’t really thinking about any of that. She couldn’t even make herself think about the meeting she had early tomorrow morning with the DC agents to cover a few new things they discovered late today. No, all she could think about right now was that kiss. 

It seemed like the thing to do at the time. From what she had gleaned from all the facts presented to her, the Andrews were a very loving and affectionate couple. Whenever someone managed to get a picture of them together in public, they were often holding hands. 

Abbie knew she was kidding herself. That wasn’t the real reasons she did what she did. The real reason was she saw him standing there, looking fine in that suit with his fresh haircut and she wanted to do it. Wanted to kiss him. She had wanted to do that for a long while now but always stopped herself. Did she really need this one more thing in her life at the moment?

She might not need it but, God, she wanted it and Crane never seemed to make a move. Abbie tossed and turned for a while, adjusting her nest of fluffy pillows from one side to the other, and tried to think of anything else. 

After dinner and Crane’s second dinner of take-out Chinese food, they had explored the apartment for a while, laughing at all the over-the-top modern conveniences that rich people must think was just a standard part of life. She did have a particular fondness for the various ways the bathroom could be warmed up on a cold day, especially the heated travertine tile floor. 

Crane had a bigger fondness for the television surround sound system that filled the space with booming noises when he turned on his favorite video game. He also liked to play around on the baby grand piano, banging out simple tunes by ear she didn’t recognize. More shanties, she imagined. She went searching out the silence of a hot bath while he was making more noise than usual, as if he was trying to avoid discussing anything further that evening. When she was finished with her bath, he had already turned in for the night. 

And now she was alone in her bed, thinking. She had to be up too early in the morning for these thoughts. Looking at the clock one last time, Abbie convinced her brain it could wait to think about these things tomorrow. There would be no more thoughts about that kiss tonight. Well, maybe just one more. 

*^*^*^*^*^*^*^*

 

Abbie was dressed in a particularly flattering wrap dress and she realized it looked even better once she slid her feet into the expensive heels that went with it. She could get used to this. She examined herself in the mirror and and tossed her hair about a bit before grabbing the clutch bag she would be using today and shoving a few items into it. She looked out her window and the city beneath her was already alive with activity, although too far down to actually hear. 

After knocking gently on his door a few times and getting no response, Abbie pushed it open to discover that Ichabod Crane was not quite as lively as the city at their feet. Good thing Aaron Andrews didn’t have ‘meetings’ first thing in the morning this week, what with the the video game system that was also in his room. Controllers were strewn about and she imagined he was up half the night playing. Good thing she didn’t hear any of it. 

He rolled over onto his back, the silky sheets slipping off of him as he did so and she stopped moving. Instead of his nightshirt she had grown accustomed to seeing him in, he was sleeping in only a pair of boxer briefs, every bit the modern man he was supposed to be this week. 

They had lived together for a while now and she had seen quite a bit. More than she wanted to sometimes. But this... 

She sat on the side of his bed, prepared to wake him just long enough to tell him that she had to leave now but would hopefully could meet up with him – with Aaron – for lunch. That was really all she was going to do. He mumbled something in his sleep as she brushed a lock of hair from his forehead. Then she looked at his lower lip, pouting as he continued to dream, and she considered many things. They were “married” after all. How did she always imagine she’d say goodbye to her husband someday before she went off to work? It certainly wasn’t with just a quick “see you later.” So she kissed him, drawing that lip between her own ever so slightly before gently pulling away and watching him wake up. 

“Good morning, Mr. Andrews. I have to go to work now.”

“Are you certain, Mrs. Andrews?” he asked. He blinked his sleepy eyes a few times and really focused on her, his eyes narrowing in on her mouth. “Abbie.”

For a second, just a few heart beats after he said her real name, she wasn’t so certain. Then she remembered. There was a job to do. No matter how lovely the idea of... no. Not now. Job now.

“I just wanted to let you know I was leaving and that I will try to meet you for lunch. To keep up appearances. I’ll let you know where and what time,” she said. He darted his tongue across his rosy lower lip as if he was trying to commit exactly how she tasted to that memory of his. Instead of making him do that, she kissed him goodbye once more and left him in his room without looking back. 

*^*^*^*^*^*^*^*

It was the longest meeting she ever had to sit through. Agents McCormick and Dwyer were both still jittery and convinced this was all going to go wrong. Crane kept texting her every few minutes to see if she was done yet. And her mind kept revisiting this morning over and over. What was she doing, exactly? It was one thing when she kissed him on the sidewalk where she had a cover to maintain but no one was watching in his bedroom. Besides him, of course. But she looked at him and wanted to do it. Kiss him, that is. 

“Agent Mills?” 

Shit. Did one of them ask a question? 

“Sorry. Could you repeat that?” Abbie asked, trying to make it look like she was going over her notes. 

“There might be more to Aaron Andrews’ past than we previously thought,” Agent McCormick said. That caught Abbie’s attention. Crane was supposed to be her sidekick on this particular assignment. Not even that much. He was supposed to stand there and look good. 

“Like...?”

“We’re still working on that but we assure you it will not make a difference in anything that happens tonight and as soon as we know, you’ll know. I just didn’t want for anything that might be said at any meeting you have with Mr. Lund to catch you completely off guard. Or Mr. Crane,” Dwyer added. 

“Should he be here?” Abbie said, reaching for her phone. Leave it to Crane to have to pretend to be someone with more to their past than they were sharing. 

“No. We trust you to relay any information that might be needed for him to keep up his... act,” Agent McCormick said, turning to Abbie. “Speaking of his act, how much of Mr. Crane is an act in of itself? What is he again, exactly?” 

“In comparison to some of the people I’ve seen around this city, he’s pretty normal. Maybe just a little overly invested in the historical accuracy of the American Revolution. You should see him in his Continental Army Officer uniform. It is rather striking and all part and parcel of his preservation society,” Abbie said, shrugging them off. She didn’t want to have to explain Crane to this agent one more time. Most people just accepted him for his quirks. McCormick and Dwyer couldn’t seem to move past them. 

“Just as long as...”

“I know, I know. Just as long as he looks normal for this and doesn’t mess up your case. He won’t. I won’t let him,” Abbie assured them one more time. This was really getting tiring and she just wanted to get on with the operation to show them how well she and Crane worked together. How well they did so many things together. 

“Victor Lund won’t be forgiving if he catches on that something is wrong. We’ll meet you again tonight after your dinner with him. Agent Palmer will be driving. There will be several more agents in the restaurant. You know the drill,” Agent McCormick said again. He really was getting on Abbie’s nerves. You know the drill? Seriously?

“We’ll be following you and your partner this afternoon just to make sure you are safe and that you have the mannerisms of the Andrews down pat. You appeared rather convincing to anyone just casually watching both of you last night,” Dwyer said without a bit of smugness or humor at all. 

“Glad to hear it,” Abbie said, going along with them even though her heart still raced thinking about the kisses she had already shared with ‘Aaron Andrews.’ 

“Your safety is important to us,” Dwyer added. McCormick nodded though Abbie wasn’t very sure how genuine his concern really was, as compared to catching Lund. 

*^*^*^*^*^*^*^*

Crane’s hand was wrapped around hers as they walked down the busy city street, looking for a suitable cafe to stop and get lunch. Abbie was used to spending her time in high heels but usually something more ‘chunky’ than these and she leaned into Crane as they walked down one more block. They finally ducked into a Mediterranean restaurant that could seat them quickly. She was sure Dwyer and McCormick were somewhere nearby, making sure they were doing what was expected of them. 

Their conversation was still a little stiff since they weren’t Abbie and Ichabod but Allison and Aaron. It took a while for it to flow naturally but soon it did and they were laughing and looking every bit in love. She enjoyed his laughter and his smile. She saw it more often when they had first met but it had been replaced by a permanent scowl and knitted brows lately. She was so glad it was still in there and not lost forever. 

They ordered an appetizer of stuffed vine leaves and another of cacik that they shared, Crane taking a nibble of flat bread soaked in the yogurt concoction directly from her fingers when she offered it to him. He nodded appreciatively and looked like he wanted to take a bite of her next. 

They had entrees of seafood and lamb and shared more of their food and laughed at the made-up stories they took turns telling about vacations they had never actually been on. Turkish coffee was ordered and consumed and Abbie felt the caffeine she was no longer so accustomed to surge through her body. It made everything around her buzz just that much more. She told herself she had to focus. This was only lunch and dinner was going to be important. 

Her first meeting with Lund was planned so she’d be alone with him. Or as alone as an agent undercover with people listening in could be. She wouldn’t have minded having Crane by her side when she met with this man but she knew she could handle anything. He would be spending the evening in the apartment, probably playing video games. Abbie was almost envious. 

They finished their meal and Aaron Andrews paid for it with his credit card before they left the elegant cafe behind. He held her hand in his again and Abbie took a moment to appreciate the suit he had chosen to wear to meet her for lunch. A crisp shirt with no tie. A coat that fit him perfectly. Tailored pants. All dark and perfect for the city right down to his shoes. He wasn’t as formal as he was yesterday evening but still, the two of them weren’t exactly ignored when they entered a room. Not that he ever was, considering he was normally dressed like he missed a re-enactment somewhere. But this was different. 

Their car finally picked them up and they could be themselves for a while again. It was nice to be able to talk freely as they sat in the usual city traffic, Abbie taking off her shoes for the trip home. 

“Are they certain I should remain behind in the apartment this evening?” Crane asked. 

“I think if it were up to Agents Dwyer and McCormick, you’d remain in the archives permanently,” Abbie said, straightening out his jacket lapel and patting it. 

“They aren’t a lot of fun,” Crane said, pouting. He was going to have to stop that. Abbie looked away, out at the cars slowly inching ahead in the traffic that was part of this city. 

“This isn’t supposed to be fun,” she said, reminding herself of that just as much as she was reminding him. 

“I am aware of that, but they need to respect the fact that you are more than capable of completing this assignment as planned. I know this time around, I am merely a convenience to send with you to maintain this cover. Abbie, I would never do anything to get in the way of what you are and what you are capable of doing,” Crane said. Abbie looked at him, eyebrow raised. “Well, I try not to anyway.”

“You do have your moments.” 

He pulled her closer, his arm going around her protectively. “I am certain that no matter what is discussed in this meeting tonight, you will return to me safe and sound, my dearest love. I have faith in that.”

Abbie wasn’t exactly sure if he was Aaron or Ichabod at the moment until he was staring into her eyes with a familiar intensity. Oh, definitely Ichabod Crane was doing the talking even if he sounded a lot like Aaron Andrews. She took his hand that was wrapped around her shoulder and kissed it before letting it fall over her again. 

She never thought the lines would get blurred so quickly. 

*^*^*^*^*^*^*^*

Abbie knew she looked good in her latest dress. Crane was probably still trying to put his eyes back into his head. Or his tongue was still sweeping across his bottom lip after the kiss goodbye she gave him. Or both. Agent Delgado, an agent brought in to help her get wired so the art theft team could listen in to the dinner conversation, definitely looked on with admiration as Abbie walked past her to the front door. 

And now the man she knew only from pictures, one Victor Lund, was looking at her as if she was going to be the main course at this dinner. 

He wasn’t so bad himself, if one had a thing for art thieves. His chestnut hair was graying at the temples, his brown eyes were friendly, and he carried himself well. His suit was no better than anything Crane was wearing this week but Crane’s were only borrowed. This man certainly didn’t hang around historical archives dressed in colonial garb. 

“Mrs. Andrews, so nice to finally meet you. I’ve heard about you for years,” he said, brushing kisses on both of her cheeks as if they were old friends meeting in some European cafe. Despite that, his accent was completely west coast American.

“Mr. Lund, yes, I’m glad we could finally arrange this,” Abbie said, her brightest smile beaming as she put on the performance of her life. Her confidence right now was going to make or break all of this. She WAS Allison Andrews, happy and beautiful and in love. She was... Abbie Mills and maybe all of those things, too? 

Mr. Lund helped her with her chair and then sat across from her. The restaurant wasn’t incredibly fancy, and had a noise level that would keep anything they said private from those around them. She could hear some vague conversation through the incredibly small earpiece she had in, and she was sure it was McCormick praying that she wouldn’t screw this up. 

Naturally, she didn’t screw it up. Not for one second did she drop the ball. She sipped a glass of wine. Ate a salad for dinner. Talked about antiquities as if Jenny were standing behind her giving her hints. It only came close once to falling apart once, when they were making arrangements to meet further the following day. 

“Mrs. Andrews, I was so hoping to meet your husband. Perhaps tomorrow he will accompany you? I had some questions for him... about his line of expertise,” Mr. Lund said, his voice dropping to barely a whisper. 

“Aaron? Do you need a financial manager, Mr. Lund?” Abbie said, smiling about Crane’s real line of expertise and how that would just be so out of place here. Unless, of course, Lund really wanted to know about Thomas Jefferson’s bunions. 

‘No, Mrs. Andrews. The other thing. I think you know what I’m talking about.”

The voices in Abbie’s ear exploded, telling her to get out of the meeting as quickly as she could. But gracefully. Naturally. 

“I’ll see what he has planned,” Abbie said, not betraying that she had no damn clue what just happened except she wasn’t told everything she needed to know. “And speaking of my husband, I better get back to him. Leave him alone too long and he’ll be booking himself another vacation to play golf. I’ll see you tomorrow.”

He helped her from her seat and she could feel his eyes on her backside as she walked out of the restaurant. She went a few blocks before she got into the back of a car, finding both Dwyer and McCormick looking rather sheepish.

“Anyone want to tell me what the hell that bit about my “husband’s” other line of expertise was about?” she asked, slamming the door as hard as she could. The driver pulled away from the curb and into traffic as quickly as possible, causing her to have to catch herself before she smacked into Agent McCormick. “Or do you both want me to remain in the dark and ruin this all?”

*^*^*^*^*^*^*^*

To Be Continued...


	4. Crane

Crane was looking through more personal items of Aaron Andrews they had discovered in the last few days. He found a pair of spectacles, picked them up, cleaned them with his handkerchief, and slid them up his nose. For a moment, he was scared about how clearly he could see, thinking that perhaps his vision was no longer perfect, but then he realized they weren’t real. He could only ponder why the man had these in his possession but when he looked in the mirror, he rather liked them. Maybe he’d add them to an outfit later. 

Abbie came out of the office where a number of agents had been holding an emergency meeting, leaving Crane on the outside, looking through this box of what made up someone’s life. She wasn’t dressed as Abbie, of course. She was Allison Andrews, his wife. Aaron’s wife. And she was perfect in a purple silk dress that fit her curves like nothing he’d ever seen her in before. Despite his usual loquaciousness, he failed to come up with any other word other than perfect no matter how hard he tried. Just... perfect. 

Agent Reynolds followed her out through the door and Crane stood up straight, fixed his cuff links, and pushed the glasses up his nose. 

Abbie had returned late to the apartment the night before after her meeting with Lund and told Crane he’d be coming with her in the morning. There were things to discuss. Important things. She then told him she was too exhausted to go into any of it then and went to her own room, leaving him alone with his video games to wonder what had happened. She didn’t add much more on their drive to this temporary command center and office this morning, instead staring out the window at the city. 

Crane had no idea why Agent Reynolds would be here today for certainly this operation was higher up than him. Abbie looked from him to Danny and back to Crane again. 

“What are you wearing?” she asked, motioning towards Crane’s face. 

“Apparently Aaron Andrews wore fake spectacles,” he said, and Abbie gave an exasperated sigh. 

“Sure. Why not,” she said, shrugging her shoulders, and Crane was pretty sure that her exasperation had nothing to do with the glasses. 

“Abs, he’s not getting any further into this. It’s not safe for either of you,” Danny said, his hand going out to gently touch her back. Crane took a step closer but Danny didn’t move away. Didn’t even blink. Of course not. Abbie had once been more a ‘partner’ to Reynolds in one sense of the term than she had ever been to him and Crane should know better than to blur the lines of Ichabod and Abbie and Aaron and Allison so easily in his head after just a few kisses. No matter how amazing those kisses had been. No matter that some of those kisses had certainly been ‘them’ and not this couple they were pretending to be, right?

“We have a job to do, Danny,” Abbie said, finally pulling away from her boss. “They’re counting on us.”

“I’m completely confident that you could do this job by yourself if it were just about Victor Lund and his desire to sneak a few antiquities in and out of this country. But this...”

“This is what? Too big for me? Or requires me to spend too much time here with Crane?” Abbie asked, her eyes staring Danny down. Crane was still just as confused as he was when Abbie came home last night.

“I don’t think this is a good idea, that’s all. Look at him. He looks like he should be rushing to a board meeting at Chase,” Reynolds said, giving Crane the once over. 

“He looks like Aaron Andrews, which is what they wanted, and from what I understood as of yesterday, he would look like he’s the CEO of a financial institution,” Abbie said, smoothing out her dress and pulling her necklace around so the clasp fell in the back once more. 

“Would someone please tell me what this is all about?” Crane finally demanded, his voice loud enough to silence a number of people talking in the room. “I’ve been patient. I’ve listened to comments about my usual attire. I put on these tight fitting trousers at their behest. I have followed the Lieutenant’s lead in every action I have taken. Now could you indulge me and let me know what it is that Aaron Andrews is really involved in!” 

*^*^*^*^*^*^*^*

“I have fired a weapon before.”

“What? A front loading musket at a reenactment? That’s all well and good but it’s not like you’ve ever purposefully shot anyone,” Agent McCormick said from his place across the table from Crane. 

“I was a soldier –” Crane started to add. 

“You know that’s not the same.” 

“This is insane! Why are we discussing this anyway? Just because Victor Lund suspects that Aaron Andrews is... was a paid assassin doesn’t mean you are... were a paid assassin anymore than any of this means I’m an expert in the theft of ancient antiquities!” Abbie said, turning to Crane. He stared at her, quickly trying to count in his head how many antiquities the two of them had acquired in dubious ways over the last few years. None of that mattered at the present moment, though. 

“I’m saying, theoretically, I can... I could...” Crane started to say before Abbie silenced him with just one look. He sat back in his seat and said nothing more. 

“How did we not know about this sooner?” Abbie asked. “I was led to believe the Bureau was working with this couple? They were your assets if I’m not mistaken?” 

“Yes, they were but that doesn’t mean that Aaron Andrews put ‘assasin for hire’ on his resume, now does it? Nor does it mean your man here could take his place as such. Like... wait a minute. This is not what this assignment was about in the first place. He was only supposed to be around if you needed him,” Agent Seth McCormick responded. Crane could tell the agent was trying to fix his mistake as fast as he could and save face. Somehow making Crane less of a member of this team was his way to do this. Crane certainly wasn’t going to allow that to happen, not as long as Abbie’s life was on the line out there in the field with this Victor Lund fellow. 

“I’m not suggesting that I’m going to go out and kill anyone,” Crane said. 

“Thank God for that,” Dwyer added with a dismissive wave of her hand. “Considering you’re a librarian.”

“An historian. And you’d be surprised what historians and librarians are capable of doing,” Crane said, wondering how this all turned out like this. 

“Simmer down, all of you!” Danny said, and Crane sat back in his seat, pushing his fake glasses up on his nose again. “Abbie, you and Crane are going to meet with Lund for dinner tonight. Try to figure out what he’s really looking for out of this. Smuggled antiquities or... death. Dwyer and McCormick, figure out what charges you can possibly make stick on Lund at this point. I’ll be checking in with all of you later this afternoon. Abs, the car will be ready for you two shortly. I’ll escort you both to the parking garage when I get word.” 

Soon enough, the room cleared out except for Crane, sitting next to Abbie. She sighed heavily and then pursed her lips as she stared at Crane. 

“I am quite capable of...”

“Crane, stop,” she said, putting up a hand. “I’m well aware of what you’re capable of doing, okay? But that doesn’t mean they need to know the whole... you know.”

“Revolutionary era soldier thing? Fishkill Bailey cutlass? Headless?” 

“Yes.” 

“So... dinner?” Crane said and Abbie added a raised eyebrow to her pursed lips. “I should leave my front loading musket at home, then?”

“You and I will go into this dinner together and we will convince this man that we are nothing more than a married couple where I happen to dabble in stolen ancient artifacts. You are in finance. Nothing else. I don’t care if the real Aaron Andrews is ‘The Jackal.’ You are not,” Abbie said to him. Crane made a mental note to look into this jackal thing when he could access the internet. 

Agent Reynolds opened the door and returned to the room before they had time to discuss anything else. 

“I’ll be taking you both down to the car now. And fair warning, I’ll be part of the team watching you this afternoon as you two do whatever it is you have planned. And tonight. At your dinner,” Danny said, looking from Abbie and then to Crane. 

He might not be able to pretend to be an assassin of any sort, but Crane was certainly going to make the most of pretending to be Abbie’s husband while Agent Reynolds was watching. He decided that today would be a good time for ‘Aaron and Allison’ to show the world just how affectionate they could be. 

*^*^*^*^*^*^*^*

Crane knew it was slightly immature behavior by the third kiss that day and by the time Abbie stood up on her toes and took his glasses off and put them in his pocket for the fourth kiss, he was well aware that he was taking advantage of the situation. Yet, he couldn’t help himself. He pulled her to him and when she looked at him with those eyes... those eyes so soft it melted his heart every time... he didn’t care who was watching. 

“You’re getting pretty good at this fake kissing,” Abbie whispered as she pulled away from his latest display of affection, her hand resting gently on his chest. 

“I’m not so sure that it’s entirely fake anymore,” he said. He felt a blush rise to his cheeks at that admission, like an embarrassed schoolboy confessing to a crush. She had been the one to kiss him yesterday, in complete privacy for the first time. Surely she had to feel... something? “How about you?”

She stared at him, her tongue flicking out briefly to swipe across her bottom lip, and then looked down. “We’ll discuss this later. When there aren’t so many people watching.”

“I’ll hold you to that,” he said, knowing how many times the two of them had managed to dance around any conversations about what they were or might someday be to one another. Master Corbin had been right several days earlier when he suggested that Crane and Abbie needed to discuss this. Crane did whatever he could to avoid it, always afraid of ruining what they had for a chance of something more. Especially if she didn’t want more or want more with him but rather with someone else. Someone who was watching them right now. She took his hand in hers and pulled him with as they walked out of the park and to the busy sidewalk. 

“Lunch?” she asked, looking at her watch. “I wish we could just have a couple of slices instead of... all of this!” 

“We could go back to the apartment and order take-out?” Crane suggested. He loved being out in public with Abbie, even if she wasn’t technically Abbie, but they already had dinner planned for them and it would be nice to just sit around for a while, eating pizza and... not wearing these trousers. “Get comfortable. Eat in peace. If that’s acceptable?” 

“I love that idea. I’ll get the car to pick us up from here. Besides, I need some time where I’m not wearing a dress... and these shoes? My toes definitely need a break,” she said before making the call on her phone. Crane smiled, imagining what Agent Reynolds was thinking right now. 

*^*^*^*^*^*^*^*

To Be Continued...


	5. Abbie

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> As a warning, the rating changes here.

Crane was sitting at the black baby grand piano, singing some sad sea shanty again while trying to figure out the right notes, when Abbie came padding out of the kitchen, barefooted at last. She was also free from the form-fitting dress and was now wearing one of his crisp, white dress shirts the dry cleaner had delivered this morning. She was swimming in all the fabric and had to keep rolling up the sleeves, but it was far more comfortable than anything else she had worn in the last few days. She was a holding a large slice of pizza, folded in half, which she pointed at him. 

“I know you know plenty of music from this century. Or, hell, even last century. If you can play that miserable song by ear, you can surely play something else,” Abbie said. 

She sat beside him on the long piano bench, her hips bumping his a few times and forcing him to move down so they both had plenty of room. He had obviously packed more than just his boots from his usual wardrobe because he was wearing some of his breeches, the blue ones. Without the hosiery and with just a plain gray t-shirt, his anachronistic pants weren’t noticeable. Not that there was anyone else around here to notice what he was wearing anyway. 

He struggled to pick out a few notes of something by... Gershwin. She remembered playing it for him a long time ago, in the archives, the old scratchy record album adding to the mood of the song. He messed up the tune more than he got it right but she didn’t care. She took a bite of pizza and then offered him some, both of them laughing as he struggled to keep playing music he only heard once in his lifetime and eat what she was feeding him. 

Crane took the pizza from her and put it on his empty plate he had set on the floor next to the bottle of beer he had finished off. She felt a little self-conscious as she realized just how far the shirt she was wearing opened to show her legs when she was sitting down and just how closely he was watching her. He looked back at where his long fingers met the piano keys but she could still feel him peeking her way every so often. 

“Only man I ever think of with regret...” Abbie sang softly. “This would sound better if you opened the piano, you know.”

He shrugged his shoulders and fumbled through some more notes before giving up. That didn’t stop her from singing a few additional lines and then she fell silent, waiting to see what was going to happen next. 

“Despite what you think... what you’ve said about my past relationships, the one... about having ‘game’... I don’t,” he mumbled and Abbie turned to look at him. His gaze fluttered down her body once more before he finally looked her in the eyes. “About our relationship, I know first and foremost we are the Witnesses. But... what else?”

“Friends?” she said, absentmindedly running her fingers over the keys. Maybe a little nervously, too.

“Always.”

“Partners?” 

“Yes,” he affirmed. She stopped playing with the piano. This required no distractions. 

“Because this week will be over, Crane, and we’ll have to go home and make whatever we’ve started here work. With my job and our job and everything we have been through. This can’t fail. We can’t just break up and move on,” Abbie said, still staring into his eyes, trying to read everything in them. They were so dilated now that they were more black than blue, no matter how much afternoon sunlight was streaming through the windows. What more did she need to be able to read in them? 

“We will never fail,” he whispered right before she kissed him. There was no doubt who they were during this kiss. They were... them. No expensive clothing and noisy city streets to blame. No FBI assignments. No pretending. 

He pulled her from beside him on the piano bench so she was straddling him, her legs wrapped around his slender hips as her arms went around Crane's neck, staring into his eyes for just a while longer. Before this finally happened. 

She kissed his face. His cheeks and his forehead. The tip of his nose. His lips once more. Her mouth explored his neck and he moaned at the sensation when she nipped at an earlobe. There was more kissing and she felt him tense up and for a second, she was afraid he was going to stop this whole thing from going further. Abbie pulled away and looked at him once more. He looked... she wasn't sure. Unsure for just a moment. 

“It's just me. It's just you and me,” she said before kissing him again, her hands holding his face as her tongue moved past his lips, exploring more. Any momentary apprehension he might have had melted away and her body was humming with desire now. She was grinding against him, wishing for more. To feel more. To have more. To have him inside of her. 

Crane had different plans for her. With one quick movement, he had her on top of the piano, her feet hitting the keys and making discordant sound as she fought to maintain her balance. Maybe this is why he kept the lid closed? Where was the thing to hold the music? She didn't really care. He remained seated on the bench, kissing her up one leg and then the other, teasing with his tongue when he got to the apex of her thighs. Her fingers laced through his hair and she guided him where she wanted him to go. 

He gently motioned for her to lie back and she did so, watching as he slipped her panties off, tossing them aside somewhere near the discarded pizza. His mouth continued exploring her skin and then when his tongue darted out and met her clit, she cried out, her voice joining the sound of the piano as her feet banged against the keys again. 

Their eyes met for a moment before she closed hers, her back arching up in pleasure as continued to worship her with his mouth and then his fingers. He pulled her closer to him, suckling on her clit and swirling his tongue around it until she was going to go mad. He moved his fingers in and out of her, hitting all the right places and good God almighty, she wasn't sure how much more she could take. With his unoccupied hand, he pushed her (his?) white dress shirt up higher, his fingers splaying out against her abdomen and gently pushing down a little with the heel of his palm. Just enough. All the sensations at once sent her over the edge. 

She came, her feet slamming down on the piano keys over and over as he drew every last spasm out of her body, not quitting until she had to push him away. She looked at him and he had a very satisfied smirk on his face. He knew exactly what he was capable of. And she wanted to find out what else he was capable of. Instead, he once again went back to brushing his lips over her inner thighs, making her moan softly. She should just pull him up on the piano with her...

Her phone started ringing on the other side of the room and Abbie tried to figure out the time. How long had she been here, on the piano? Minutes? Hours? It didn’t matter. The shift in their relationship was going to be forever. No going back from this now. 

“What time is it? Work. We have to go to work,” Abbie said, propping herself up on her elbows. Her feet hit the piano keys again, this time gently, and he stopped kissing her inner thighs. He sat upright on the piano bench, his eyes meeting hers, and she should have felt exposed yet... she didn’t. He helped her sit upright and then slide down to his lap, his arms wrapping around her in a tight embrace. 

“I don’t want to leave here. There’s so much more...” 

She silenced him with a quick kiss. Abbie moved her lips away from his, her forehead now resting against his, noses touching, eyes so close she could get lost in his forever. “After dinner. I promise. We will come back here and pick up where we left off. Maybe not on a piano... how about a bed? And Crane, no matter what you believe, you do have a little game.”

*^*^*^*^*^*^*^*

Victor Lund made the dinner arrangements. They would meet at the restaurant in his hotel. Danny wasn’t completely on board with this idea but Abbie assured him over and over that she had this. Nothing was going to go wrong. He probably wanted her to see something in his room afterwards, some artifact he had mentioned the night before. Both Danny and Crane questioned why he might want her in his room. 

“Don’t let her out of your sight,” Danny said to Crane as they discussed some last minute details in the back of the car. 

“I’m certain that Agent Mills can take care of herself. She probably needs to keep me in her sight,” Crane said, and Abbie turned away from his stare, feeling a heat rise to her cheeks. The whole world had to be able to tell that something was different between them now. Surely Danny must sense it? 

“Whatever. Just watch out for one another, okay? Don’t do anything stupid, especially if this man is really looking for a hired assassin. Abs, like we said earlier, stolen goods are one thing. A man willing to pay someone to kill for art work or whatever, that’s a different matter entirely,” Danny added. 

“I got it, Danny,” Abbie said, still staring out the window at all the traffic around them. Taxi cabs fought for a better lane and horns honked constantly. 

“You look nice,” Danny added. Abbie turned to look at him and then at Crane. She was dressed in a white dress that fit her perfectly. Back in the apartment, Crane’s eyes had already traveled up and down her body after she finished dressing for the evening and now Danny’s eyes were doing the same. This could get uncomfortable fast. 

Thankfully they pulled up to the front of the hotel and the doorman opened the car door. Crane slipped out first and then helped Abbie out onto the sidewalk, not letting go of her hand once she was out. Danny told them to be careful once again and Abbie waved at him and watched as they drove away. 

“Are you ready, Mr. Andrews?” she asked. 

“Always, Mrs. Andrews,” he said. “Always.”

*^*^*^*^*^*^*^*

They were escorted to the table where Victor Lund was waiting for them and Abbie introduced her 'husband' to Mr. Lund. They shook hands and Victor seemed incredibly pleased to be meeting Aaron Andrews. Abbie really needed to know why. Crane held her chair for her as she sat and then he sat beside her, putting his hand on hers as if to show the world... something. She was still a little confused by their state of being at the moment but she had to push that to the back of her mind. She was Allison. He was Aaron. That was what they were. And she had to focus on this assignment. 

“From what I understand, there will be dancing later,” Victor said. Abbie and Crane looked at each other, unsure of what to make of that. “Do you dance?”

“Of course,” Crane said a little too quickly and Abbie gently nudged his foot with hers. He was supposed to follow her lead. What if this man knew that one of them dreaded dancing? Fortunately for Crane, that wasn't the case. At least as far as Abbie knew. Perhaps Allison Andrews detested dancing on hotel dance floors, no matter how beautiful the room and... partner. 

“I'm glad to hear it! But first, how about dinner and drinks? And we can discuss some business,” Victor said, motioning for the waiter to come to the table. Abbie ordered what she knew was Allison's favorite alcoholic beverage even though she wasn't crazy about it and Crane followed with Aaron's choice. Abbie slowly sipped her drink, not wanting to lose any control in this situation. She had already lost control once today. She looked at Crane and he was staring at her. To even a casual observer, he looked madly in love with her. She felt her cheeks grow warm and she smiled and looked away. 

There dinner was splendid and expensive and Victor was a great conversationalist, very informed on a wide variety of topics. Crane (or Aaron?) added his amusing anecdotes when he could even if he had to change the story to fit whatever period of time they were discussing. Abbie and Crane both knew enough about antiquities. He was an antiquity. She smiled again. She was going to look foolish if she kept it up. 

Foolish or in love? Same thing? Probably. 

“Go ahead and dance!” Victor told them when they had finished with dinner and dessert. Crane gave Abbie an eyebrow, waiting for her to lead this time. “After, I have something to show you in my suite.”

Abbie gave Crane a nod. If they were going to be leaving here to go to this man's room, they needed to cover a few things quickly. The dance floor would give them the opportunity they needed. Crane stood and helped Abbie from her seat, taking her by the hand and going to where a few other couples were already slowly dancing. She could feel Victor's eyes on them and she smiled brightly as if this was just a normal dance between a couple of married people. 

They had already discussed how to deal with looking like a couple. Crane knew when to laugh to make it look like she said something funny even though she was carefully talking him through how he was supposed to not get in the way when they went to Lund's suite. She had to work hard to not get distracted by him... by the music which was something being sung in French... by the way he was leading her even though they had never danced together before. Not like this. They had jokingly done some sort of 18th century reel together but this was different. 

“I don't like this... I can feel that he's up to something,” Abbie said. She knew everyone out in the truck could hear her, too. They had remained silent most of the night but now Danny commented that she should use her instincts and get out of as soon as they could. She was in complete agreement with that but she also knew that this meeting had to go forward. They had to figure out what this man was after. 

“Would you like for me to make our excuses so we can leave?” Crane asked. He turned them on the dance floor so he could take a glance at Lund over Abbie's head. “Perhaps I have an early meeting tomorrow?”

“No... no. We can do this. We have to figure out what this guy wants so we can... go home,” Abbie said, looking up at him, a warning in her expression that he say nothing more while others were listening in. He didn't need to say anything else. Everything he could have said was all in his eyes. 

“Well then, Mrs. Andrews. Should we let him know we're ready to see whatever it is he has to show us... you. Show you,” Crane said, giving her hand a squeeze and leading her around the floor once more. 

She would really rather stay here, her hand in his, for the rest of the night. But there was work to do and they were the only two who could do this. 

*^*^*^*^*^*^*^*

To Be Continued...


	6. Crane

“I was so excited when I saw you in your glasses, Aaron, and I realized you were once again back in business. I have something that I believe will be of interest to both of you,” Victor Lund said as soon as they were in his hotel suite and he had locked the deadbolt. 

Abbie made a face and touched her ear, giving Crane a look as she quickly pulled her hand away. He knew right away that whatever connection they had with the agents on the outside was gone. They were now on their own. Perhaps Mr. Lund had the room set up previously to keep out any interference. Crane noticed there weren't many electronics nearby. Not even the ubiquitous, expensive flat screen television found in most high end places of lodging. 

“Glasses?” Abbie asked, looking puzzled. 

“Of course the glasses! When Aaron Andrews appears in public with his glasses on, it's an open for business sign,” Victor said, turning to the man he thought was Andrews. Crane controlled the look on his face the best he could. It had been a long, long time since he was a spy but he knew to not look like he had just made a terrible mistake when he might have indeed made a terrible mistake. 

“Yes, the glasses. But I don't have them on now,” Crane said with a wave of his hand as if that would make it all go away. He was hoping it would, anyway. “No longer open for business!” 

“Yes, he is,” Abbie said, and Crane couldn't miss the side eye she gave him. Of course, she needed to find out how whatever Victor Lund was in possession of was an aid to whatever Andrews had been doing. That was her job. 

Victor went to the other side of the room and opened a safe, pulling out a small object that was wrapped in many layers of fabric. Abbie motioned for Crane to stay behind her and he tried but he was just as curious as she was about what this artifact had to do with either Aaron Andrews' financial dealings or the fact that he might have killed people on the side. Maybe both. 

“I'm certain this stone will be of interest to both of you,” Victor said, carefully unwrapping it and placing in on a velvety display pad. As it stood, it was very uninteresting. Barely more than a pebble, obviously chipped off of something bigger. Crane arched his eyebrow up and then tried to get it back under control as he remembered he should probably know what this thing was. Even with all his knowledge of artifacts, he had no clue. He could tell Abbie didn't, either. 

“It's lovely,” Abbie said with a tone that indicated it really wasn't. 

“Go ahead and touch it,” Victor said. Abbie and Crane both pulled their hands away. 

“No, that's okay,” Abbie said, her hands in the air. The two of them had seen what could happen by just touching things. They weren't going to go down that path whilst locked in this hotel room. 

“What does it do and why would it help me?” Crane asked.

“It's a killing stone,” Victor said and Abbie gave him a look that could kill. 

“You're saying this is a stone that will kill anyone who touches it but you just asked the two of us to touch it?” she said, unable to hide the anger in her tone. 

“I had to check and see if you two were the real deal. If you knew what you were doing and knew about such things,” Victor said, carefully moving the stone around the pad with the end of a pen without actually touching it. “I never would have let you really touch it, Allison.”

Crane noticed he made no such promise to Aaron Andrews. 

“I know of the Sessho-seki rock in Japan and the legend behind it but it is not a stone like this. It's an actual rock. It's located in the Nasu region in the Tochigi Prefecture and wouldn't fit in your safe,” Crane said, looking at Victor doubtfully. He glanced at Abbie who looked relieved for a change that he knew some obscure fact about Japanese legends instead of just finding him annoying. 

“I didn't say it was the whole rock,” Victor added with a shrug. “Just enough to do the job.”

“You desecrated an historical site?” Crane said before he could stop himself. 

“I didn't do it myself. There are others who did the dirty work,” he said. “So are you interested?” 

“How do we ascertain that it actually works?” Abbie asked. 

“I could call up room service and we could check it out on the guy they send up or you could just trust me. I've seen it in action. It works,” Victor said. He carefully wrapped the stone up again and deposited back in the safe. Crane couldn't see the combination he punched into the keypad though he tried. 

“No, I'm not into murdering someone tonight,” Abbie said. 

“Not for free, anyway,” Crane added, nodding in agreement and playing along with his role. 

“If you aren't interested...”

“Oh, we're interested. Or at least I am. It's quite a find and I'm sure even if my husband doesn't want to use it, the market for it is there. If it is from where you say it's from, anyway. Can we have a day to discuss this with each other and I'll get back to you the day after tomorrow?” Abbie said. 

“Yes, but only because you're so lovely and I know you're the best in the business,” Victor said, putting on the charm with Abbie. Crane wrapped his arm around her shoulders and pulled her close, suddenly possessive and he didn't know if it was Aaron being possessive of his wife or more than likely, Crane himself being possessive of Abbie. This afternoon had changed things forever and he was still working out how he felt about... well, everything. 

“I will contact you either way,” Abbie told him. She reached up and took a hold of Crane's fingers, wrapping them in her own. He couldn't help but notice the way she played with his wedding band, twisting it around casually. Like it had always been there. Like she put it there. He sighed, definitely ready to get out of here and back to their apartment. Unfortunately, he knew they would have to deal with the other agents first. 

“Please do. I enjoyed this evening with the two of you immeasurably. I hope we can work together many, many more times in the future,” Victor said, leading them to the door. 

“Yes, I look forward to it,” Abbie said. As soon as they were outside the door and he had closed it behind them, she reached for her ear. Everything must have started working again. She motioned for him to remain silent and he followed down the hallway to the elevator, where he punched the down button. She reached for her phone and texted him quickly. He pulled his phone out of his pocket to read her message. 

She didn't want him to say a word about what just happened. Not even when they got back to the other FBI agents. Just follow her lead. 

He raised a curious eyebrow and looked at her as they silently waited for the elevator to arrive at this uppermost floor. She texted him more. 

If that stone was what Lund said it was, they were going to have to get it from him. Themselves. No FBI. Danny could know but not the rest of them. Maybe. She'd have to think about it. The others wouldn't understand. They were going to have to improvise. 

He was still reading when the elevator door opened with a 'ding.' Stepping in, he nodded at her. He'd rather do this without Danny involved (of course) but understood that now that her boss was aware of the supernatural side of their existence, he might come in handy in throwing the other agents off their trail. 

Thankfully, improvising was something they excelled at because this day was certainly not turning out how he had imagined when he woke up this morning. And hopefully, it was far from over yet. He had plans to improvise so much more when they had the chance to be alone. 

*^*^*^*^*^*^*^*

Crane wasn't invited in on most of the debriefing meeting after they arrived back at the office. Perhaps Abbie thought that the less either of them said, the better and with him out of the room, less would definitely be said. He stood patiently outside the conference room, knowing better than to ever touch anything that the Andrews had owned while they were alive. 

Glasses. The damnable glasses. He had to go and put them on. 

He had watched several spy movies on Netflix and had read a few books (though not the jackal thing Abbie had mentioned) but it never occurred to him that putting on a pair of spectacles would lead to some of this. What if the man had eventually needed corrective lenses? He would have to wear contact lenses whenever he left the house. Or get that surgery. He obviously had the money to do so and that would seem more likely. 

Crane's train of thought was interrupted by Abbie opening the door and telling him to come in. Her expression made it clear that he was to say nothing beyond what they had agreed upon earlier. Which was he was to say nothing. 

“Mr. Crane,” Agent Dwyer said as he sat down in a chair beside Abbie. Megan Dwyer looked like she had a long day and that things weren't exactly going her way. And now she had to deal with him. Good thing he wasn't going to say anything. 

“Agent,” Crane said, nodding his head. Agent Reynolds sighed and looked away. Crane had no idea what his problem was now. Maybe he sensed something was up. Good. 

“Agent Mills informed us how the meeting went with Victor Lund after we lost contact with her. She explained that she talked him into a few days to think about the many items he had to offer and I just wanted to thank you for your help,” she said. Agent McCormick crossed his arms and then uncrossed them and sighed, too. 

“Our task isn't complete, is it?” Crane asked, sounding slightly panicked that they were packing the two of them off and back to Sleepy Hollow on the first train out of town. 

“No, of course not. And I'm sure Agent Mills will fill you in on more later. We just wanted to make sure you were still comfortable in this role,” Agent McCormick said. 

“Of course I am,” he responded quickly. “I understand how important it is for you to get this man. More important than ever.”

Abbie kicked him under the table. No one noticed or even paid any attention to what he said. 

“I'm just thankful that he's only looking for someone to help with his stolen antiquities and art and he's not looking to hire an assassin. That was going to make this all the more complicated,” Dwyer said, looking at her partner and doing whatever he was doing with his arms. The two of them were moving in sync again and Crane wondered... 

It was none of his business. Just like what he and Abbie were becoming was none of theirs. Now if he could only get out of here and back to the apartment. 

“Like I said, Mr. Lund said he would be in contact with me in the next few days. We will continue to go about the business of being Aaron and Allison until then. I'll let you know if anything changes,” Abbie said, standing up again. Crane's gaze was possibly filled with a little more admiration than was required of just a 'roommate' but he couldn't help it. She was absolutely stunning, even now at the end of this long day. 

“Thanks, Abs. Keep us informed,” Agent Reynolds said. Crane turned to look at him and he was staring at him, not at Abbie. 

Oh, he had to know. If he didn't, he certainly didn't deserve the job he had of investigating anything, federally or not. 

*^*^*^*^*^*^*^*

It was the longest ride up in an elevator he had ever been on which would have been true even if they were only going up one level. The way Abbie looked – oh god and the way she smelled – and the way she looked at him, her brown eyes meeting his and then looking down to his shoes and then back up. It was the sharpest, best fitting navy suit he had with and she had picked out the necktie for their dinner this evening. Even though he wasn't comfortable in these trousers, he did like the way the ensemble made her look at him. He could suffer through for a few more minutes. 

He keyed in the pass code to open the elevator and then to get into the apartment. The door had barely closed behind them when she grabbed him by the lapels and pulled him in for a kiss. Even with her ridiculously high heels on, she had to stand on her toes to do so and he stood splay-legged to make it easier. She tasted as good as she smelled and he was hard already. Not that he wasn't already getting there in the elevator just looking at her. 

Abbie dragged her hand across the front of his trousers, feeling the length of him and he made a sound in his throat that he had never made before in his life. They stumbled across the floor to the furniture and she sat him down in some sort of post-modern leather and metal chair. She didn't sit right away but turned around, motioning for him to unzip the sleek zipper down the back of her dress. He did so, his fingers shaking just a little as he pulled it down. She stepped out of it and then walked to couch across from him, still wearing her high heels. The beautiful ones with the red bottoms. He had really been enjoying those a lot this week. 

She was... perfect. She had on the smallest string of under clothing – the thing she informed him was a thong when he started doing her laundry – and that was it. Sitting, she wiggled out of them and let them fall from the toe of her shoe to the floor. This show was all for him and there was nothing that could make him look away except for death itself walking through the door and taking him. Even then, he'd put up a fight. 

Her fingers played across her own body, brushing over her breasts and slowly down her stomach and lower. She dipped them between her thighs and his memory of her taste... of her moans... everything about her from this afternoon... was almost enough to make this end too quickly. And he was still wearing these damned confining trousers. He shifted in his seat, growing a little uncomfortable now. 

“Come here,” she said. He was across the small distance of space between them in one long stride and in front of her. He shed the suit coat immediately, and she pulled him closer with his tie before her hands went down the suspenders he was wearing, grazing down his chest and stomach to where they fastened on to his trousers. “Trying hard to keep your pants on?”

“Not at all,” he said as pulled them down each arm, leaving them to hang at his sides. Her fingers now went to the fly of his trousers and she laughed and looked up at him, her face sparkling with amusement. 

“You couldn't even go for the pants with a zipper? Even your suit has a button fly? Here I thought this would be a bit easier without you dressed in a Hamilton costume,” Abbie said. 

“I'll have you know–” 

His protests about anything to do with that musical were stopped with how easily her fingers undid all the buttons. He did manage to get his shoes off quite easily which was something that couldn't be said for his boots. She tugged his pants down and he stepped out of them, kicking them away, along with with his boxer briefs. His socks were removed and now he was left in just a shirt and tie. 

Her eyes looked him up and down and stopped at the level of his erect cock. Her expression indicated she was pleased by what she saw and that made him a little prouder than it really should have. Not that anyone had ever complained before but this was the 21st century and things were different. Maybe expectations were different. 

She reached out and took him in her hand, her palm wrapping around his shaft as she gave him a pleasurable tug. Yes... things were different but not too different. With her free hand, she reached for his necktie and pulled him to his knees. She deftly unfastened the knot and then went down all the buttons, freeing him from that. It was only when he tried to slide it off that he remembered the cufflinks and now he was trapped in this shirt and they were both laughing. It was joyous to be able to laugh during this. It was supposed to be fun and with Abbie as his partner, it most certainly was. 

They figured out the cufflinks and he got out of that shirt and the one everyone insisted he had to wear under it and now he was naked before her. And she was naked before him. Except for the amazing shoes. Apparently, they were staying on. 

She pulled him in between her thighs and in for another kiss. He could feel the heat of her so close to his cock and it was making him even more crazy. The kisses were fantastic and he knew that later he'd have all the time in the world to explore every inch of her glorious body but right now, he needed nothing more than to be inside of her. 

“Abbie, you certain?” he asked as she reached between them, to his cock. 

“What do you think? Yes. Of course yes,” she said, guiding him into her. They both gasped at the sensation and her eyes met his once more and her expression was the one he had always hoped he could one day see. That he would one day be responsible for. And now it was happening. 

She wrapped her legs around his hips, holding him in place. As if he was going to go anywhere now. His first movements were tentative, hoping this didn't end too soon. He wanted to make her happy like earlier today. Wanted to hear her crying out again and again. 

He worked a hand between them to find that spot once more and when he did, her eyes fluttered shut and she moaned for more – for him to move faster and harder. And he obeyed her every command. He reached his free hand out to touch her breasts and she leaned into his touch. His brain, which could normally keep up with everything going on around him, was struggling to absorb all of this. The way she looked. The sounds she made. The way she tightened around his cock when she came, pushing him over the edge, too. 

Crane fell forward towards her, a blinding light flashing around him and not subsiding for a long while. When it finally did, she was waiting for him there, her eyes meeting his. And nothing could be more perfect on this earth. 

*^*^*^*^*^*^*^*

She kept talking about the case and that stone as his fingers moved over her body. They were in her bed now, her heels finally off as she rested on her stomach, her legs cross at the ankles. He touched the small of her back and then lower, all her soft curves and hard muscles. He moved down her legs, uncrossing her legs and rubbing one small, perfect foot and then the other. The skyline glowed through her windows and provided all the light that they needed. 

“You're going to have to get in back in there, Crane.”

“Yes. As soon as possible,” he replied without thinking. 

“No! That's not what I meant. I mean, yes... that, too... but... Crane... get up here,” she said. She rolled over as he crawled back up the bed. Of course he couldn't just go without kissing her body every few inches, relishing the smoothness of her skin. 

“I'm here,” he said after placing one last kiss on her lips. 

“I think I have to call Jenny,” she said and he nearly choked. 

“To tell her we are now...”

“No! I mean, she'll know that right away. Jenny can tell things and I can't lie about something this important. But I think we might need Jenny in order to pull this off easily. You're going to have to get Lund to trust you in the next few days. She and I are going to have to get that stone from him. Unless you want me to hang out with him alone?” Abbie asked. He knew she was playing with his jealous streak and right now, he didn't care. 

“Oh, I think your other idea is far better. I know I can break into places but not with the same ease as Miss Jenny... and of course, you. You two are naturals,” he said, beaming with pride while thinking of his beautiful Lieutenant and her criminal inclinations. 

“We get that stone from him... stop that! We get it from him and then set him up at the same time to get busted by the FBI for bringing things into the country. You know there has to be more. We have to make sure not to ruin their case. That's why Jenny will come in handy, too,” Abbie said with a giggle as he brushed his bearded face across her breasts, his tongue darting out to circle one of her nipples. She arched her back up into his tongue and he worked her hard nipple in between his soft lips. 

This silenced her for a while. Not very long, though. 

“Crane, this has to work. We can't fuck this up.” 

He released her from his mouth and moved until he was level with her face, propping himself up on an elbow so he could talk to her without being distracted by her body before him. 

“The case... or this thing we are now?”

“Both. We are far more important but this case... it's important, too,” she said in earnest. Right before her stomach growled loudly and they both laughed. “Damn, sex always makes me hungry. What do you want? More Chinese? More pizza? Or both?”

“Both?” 

“Yes, both. You're going to need to keep your energy up, Crane. It's still early,” she said with a wide, playful grin that melted him completely. 

*^*^*^*^*^*^*^*

To Be Continued...

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Happy Birthday, sleepymr!! I hope this is done before the next one but I make no promises anymore!


	7. Abbie

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So, this only took me nearly two years to get this far. Things happened. A LOT OF THINGS. But Sleepymr can consider it a very, very slow birthday present from 2016. What do you want for your next birthday?? I better start now!!

*^*^*^*^*^*^*^*

“This isn't exactly how I imagined it would go,” Abbie said, wiggling against the binds that were wrapped around her wrists. 

“How did you imagine it?” Crane asked as he tugged against the rope, making it tighter. 

“Don't move so much. It hurts,” Abbie said, cringing as the restraint started to dig into her flesh more. 

“Pray tell, what would you like for me to do instead?” he asked, falling as still as he could in the situation. 

“Hope we can figure a way out of this. I know we've been tied up before but with ropes possessed by some sort of evil spirit? That's new. We should have guessed that a guy with magic death rocks would have a whole arsenal filled with Harry Potter level shit,” Abbie said. 

“So, to summarize, Mr. Lund actually got into the illegal trade of mystical objects and somehow after the deaths of the Andrews, we managed to walk right into this? Why does this not surprise me at all? Can't one case just have no supernatural elements at all? Just one?” Crane asked, still trying to maneuver his way out of the ropes that just kept moving with him. “At least you called Miss Jenny before we came here.”

“Yeah, I did. Hopefully, Jenny and Joe can figure out what happened,” Abbie said. 

She wasn't sure where Lund had gone. He didn't seem worried about them being alone in this vault he had inside of the his already soundproof hotel room. They wouldn't be able to contact anyone even if they tried. The room was protected by so many wards and sigils that the FBI would never even comprehend if they did find them. 

Jenny would be able to find a way to get through if only she knew where she was supposed to be looking for them. Abbie told her everything this morning. Told her that they were going to go visit Lund to check out the layout of the hotel room and the safe once more. She was sure he would be happy to see them. And he was. So very happy, especially as he was tying them up. 

Crane moved again and the ropes pulled against her hands. He didn't stop moving until he was holding her hand in his. It wasn't comfortable but it was comforting. 

“I wonder how he knew,” Crane pondered, his thumb slowly brushing over her hand. She leaned against him and the rope bound them even tighter. “How he figured out we weren't Aaron and Allison.” 

“Did he figure that out? He didn't say anything. Just tied us up,” Abbie said, wiggling a little before the rope settled. She wasn't sure of the origin of this rope but she was sure she didn't want to be suffocated by it. 

She struggled to twist around enough so she could see his face. He looked relatively calm about the whole situation. Of course, they had gotten out of bigger jams. Hell, they've even gotten out of similar jams. They'd get out of this, too.

“We could take this time to discuss last night's events,” Crane said. “And those of this morning.”

Abbie wasn't sure if he was being serious or not. All she knew was that parts of her body were hurting like they hadn't in a long while but in a good way. A very good way. She sighed at the thought of some of the things he did to her and the various places around the apartment that he did them to her. 

He didn't have a smug grin on his face nor did his eyebrow arch upward. Did he really need her reassurances that it was all good? All better than good? 

“Do you really think this is the time, Aaron?” Abbie asked. 

“Could be our last chance, Allison,” Crane said smiling at her. 

“You don't believe that,” she said, elbowing him in the ribs. “I just got everything I ever wanted. I'm certainly not going to let this be the end of the story.”

“Everything?” he asked. 

“Pretty damn close. All I need now is more nights like last night and more mornings like this morning. Like a lifetime of them,” she said, resolving any doubts he might have had. He struggled against the rope and placed a kiss on her head. 

*^*^*^*^*^*^*^*

“Wake up.”

Abbie struggled to move against a sleeping Crane. He moved away from her and was immediately pulled back toward her by the rope. 

“I'm awake” Abbie said, stretching the best that she could. “And I really have to go pee. You got any object imbued with some mystical properties to take care of that?” 

“No. But I can untie you both as long as I'm here,” Victor Lund said. He touched the rope that was around them and as if he was its master, it obeyed him and fell loose. Abbie stretched, happy to be unbound for the first time in hours. 

Victor pointed her in the direction of bathroom and she relieved herself, washed up, and opened the door to leave. Crane was standing there, waiting his turn. He pushed her back in the room and locked the door behind them. She turned around as he stood in front of the toilet, sighing happily as he emptied his bladder. When he was done and zipped up again, she turned back around. 

“Any thoughts on how we're getting out of this one?” Abbie asked. 

“First, we have to determine if he really knows we're not the Andrews,” Crane said. “We also have to determine what he wants... or wanted from the Andrews. Or wants from us now. We also have to keep him from using that rope again because we're at a disadvantage while we're tied up.” 

Crane took off his suit coat and necktie. He handed the tie to Abbie and she folded it up and put it down the top of her silk blouse. They might be able to use it later. She unbuckled and removed the high heeled shoes she had been wearing. If she got a chance to run, she'd be able to do it better in bare feet rather than those. 

Lund slammed his fists on the bathroom door. “I didn't say you could go in their together! Enough time plotting. Get back out here.”

Abbie came out with her shoes in her hands and dropped them on the floor. Crane tossed his suitcoat over a chair and the two of them stood there, waiting to see what would happen next. 

“I don't know who you are, but you're not the Andrews,” he said. Abbie took a step back until she was just a few inches from Crane. 

“Why would you even think that?” Crane asked. 

“For one, they're dead. Nice try to keep it secret but I heard from an associate that they've been very dead for a few days now and he knows this because he killed them. Also, they weren't as 'in love' as the two of you pretend to be. Maybe they were at once but not anymore. Or maybe the two of you aren't pretending. Doesn't matter to me anyway because here I am stuck with two people pretending to be a dead antiquities dealer and a dead assassin. And I don't know what I'm supposed to do with you. I do have this stone, though. Perhaps you'd both like to feel what it can do,” Lund said. 

Crane put his hands on Abbie's shoulders and pulled her closer. “We know people who would be very interested in your stone.”

“You're telling me that a couple of antiquities dealers are pretending to be antiquities dealers?” Lund asked. 

“Not exactly,” Abbie answered, choosing her words carefully. “We know some people. They have a lot of money. She is an expert and you're going to love her. I just need to make a phone call and arrange for you to meet her. I know you don't understand what's going on now but I promise you that it's not nefarious.”

She hoped he believed her half-truth. If Jenny could get that stone out of Lund's possession, she could deal with the criminal aspects of this whole thing. Or lose her job because of all of this. Whatever. Right now, they had to get out of here. 

“Let me think about it for a while,” Lund said, picking up the rope. Abbie stiffened at the thought of that thing bound around her again. Crane's fingers held her shoulders even tighter. “Oh, you didn't like this? Want to see what else I have? Or how about I just make it a bit more comfortable for the two of you? Go that way.”

Abbie and Crane turned in the direction Lund was pointing and he marched them into one of the bedroom suites. There was only a full-sized bed. 

“This ought to be cozy,” Abbie muttered, looking at Crane. 

“Get comfortable,” he said. They settled face to face on the bed and then Lund bound them together at the wrists. They'd be able to move a little, sleep more comfortably, and most importantly, discuss how the hell to get out of this mess. 

The rope clenched tight when Lund pulled his hands away and Abbie groaned as it dug into a place where it had been before. Crane tried to pull it so it relieved the pressure on her wrists but there wasn't much either of them could do. Lund left them alone in the room, turning off the lights and locking the door as he went. 

Crane moved forward, his face right by Abbie's. He brushed the tip of his nose against the tip of hers and then placed a soft kiss on her forehead. 

“We will get out of this. If nothing else, the FBI is going to start looking for you soon. Agent Reynolds won't take your disappearance lightly and I'm sure he'll move the moon and the stars to get you back,” Crane said. “I would. I have.” 

*^*^*^*^*^*^*^*

“I wish I had on my own clothing,” Crane said, fidgeting around and trying to tug at the neck of his shirt. Working together, they had unbuttoned the collar so it was much more comfortable but he was used to letting everything hang out. 

“Yes, my yoga pants and a t-shirt would be ideal right now,” Abbie said, moving enough that the waistband of the pants she was wearing stopped digging into her skin. 

“Nothing at all would be even better,” Crane said with a sweet, soft sigh. He had a leg crooked and tucked between her thighs. She liked the nearness of him and was lost in thought about how fast she had grown accustomed to him being so close. Of course it had been years now with him but she usually liked to keep a little distance with her lovers. Both Danny and Luke would be able to attest to this fact. But Crane... no. It's like they belonged together. 

Wait. 

They did. 

The Bible said it was so. 

She smiled at that thought and smiled even more when he shifted, pressing against her. This wasn't necessarily in their part of the Bible. He had grown hard and this was going to be an inconvenience at the moment. 

“Crane?” she whispered. 

“I know, I know. I'll close my eyes and think of Moloch,” he said saucily. 

A few minutes later, when whatever he had thought of worked its magic, she heard his stomach rumble. 

“Do you think if we ask nicely, our captor might possibly bring us some Chinese food? I could go for a good dumpling right about now,” Crane said. 

“We've been kidnapped, locked up and bound with some magical rope and all you can think of is dumplings?” Abbie asked incredulously. 

“I was thinking of other things but we know how that turned out,” he said. 

“Yes, I do. Think about food instead. Or water. I'm so thirsty,” Abbie said with a sigh. It has been hours since she had any water and her lips were dry. She moved a few inches and the ropes followed her, cinching her tighter to Crane. 

“He has to return eventually,” Crane said, echoing her sigh. 

“I hope so. I love you, Crane, but I don't want to die tied to you,” Abbie said.

“There are worse ways to go,” Crane said, moving towards her just enough to place a soft kiss on her forehead. 

“True. If we have to go, we might as well go together. One of us can't leave the other behind,” she said, shifting her position on the bed enough to kiss his lips. They felt as parched as her own. It had only been a few hours but this certainly wasn't going to be their end. Not if she could help it. 

*^*^*^*^*^*^*^*

“Wake up, kids! I brought along a visitor!” Lund shouted, causing Abbie to jump even though she wasn't even asleep. When she moved, the rope pulled tighter and she and Crane both winced in pain. “If you both can behave, I'll take that off for now so you can meet my new friend. You're going to love her. I can't believe how easy it was to find another buyer! I should have gone into this years ago!”

Lund did away with their bonds and Crane stood up before Abbie could manage to get to her feet. He assisted her and they both followed their captor's directions to proceed out of the room ahead of him... and straight into the room where Jenny Mills was standing. With one quick eyebrow raise on Jenny's part, Abbie knew to keep quiet. She grabbed and squeezed Crane's hand, hoping he'd get the message, too. 

“Oh, how pretty!” Jenny said, looking at the two captives. “Victor, I have an idea!”

“Let me finish the introductions first,” Victor said, gesturing toward Jenny. She was dressed as exquisitely as Abbie had been over the last several days and she looked every bit the part of an art theft ring member. “Jasmine, this is... well, I don't really know yet. I know who they aren't. You two, this is Jasmine. She's interested in the stone and apparently other things.” 

“Very interested,” Jenny said, moving closer to Crane and looking him up and down. She reached out and brushed her fingers across the expensive, crisp fabric of his dress shirt and then trailed down even further. Abbie stared at what her sister was doing with her hands, watching as she got slightly personal with Crane. Abbie was impressed either of them could keep a straight face. Jenny slid her hand close to one of the pockets on Crane's trousers and licked her lips. “Very nice”

“Thank you, Miss Jasmine,” Crane said through gritted teeth, taking a step back from her touch as if she was actually a stranger. 

“You're beautiful, too. The two of you together. Yeah,” Jenny said to Abbie, looking her over as if she had never seen her before in her life. “So, who are you two?”

“My name is Aaron Andrews. This is my wife, Allison Andrews,” Crane said rather convincingly. He even gave Abbie a look filled with so much love and concern, it startled her. “We are in the city to do some business and this man for some unknown reason thinks we're impostors.” 

“That's a lie. I don't just think it,” Victor Lund said. “They are impostors.”

“Oh, I don't really care who they are. Show me the merchandise and I'll tell you my idea,” Jenny said, slinking up next to Victor and batting her eyelashes at him. Abbie almost sighed but stopped herself in time. She also wondered what part Joe was playing in the charade they were all now mixed up in. 

Victor opened the safe and then put on a pair of leather gloves before pulling out the wrapped stone. He motioned for Jenny to step back and she did so as he put the object on a table and unwrapped it. Jenny made her best appreciative noises and discussed some of the lore behind the stone. While they were busy doing business, Abbie gave Crane a questioning glance. Should they make a break for it now? Surely the three of them could overpower this man? 

Before either of them could make a move, Victor turned to them, with the stone in hand. “Should we test it now?” he asked Jenny and she laughed. 

“A private show for just me? What a waste. I have friends who would pay a lot of money to see this artifact in action. Let me arrange it for tonight... you can bring the stone and our special guests and I promise you a cut of the action. I told you I had a good idea,” Jenny said. 

“That sounds like a terrible idea,” Crane said as he stepped between Jenny and Abbie, offering up his body to protect her. 

“Yes, I imagine to you it does but trust me, it will be a wonderful show. You'll be a star... I promise you that. Just you wait,” Jenny said with a huge smile. 

*^*^*^*^*^*^*^*

To Be Continued...


	8. Crane

Crane was unsure of where they were headed but they were headed there in style. First a ride in a luxurious car to another building and then a helicopter ride over the city to a different location and now they were being escorted by Lund and a few of his “friends” through another opulent hotel. He had been instructed to put his tie and coat back on before they left and Abbie was moving ahead of him in her heels. 

He hoped Miss Jenny knew exactly what she was doing. Lund was carrying the stone in a locked case and Crane really didn't want to be the one to try the artifact out. He had seen enough of what something so simple could do and he really wasn't ready to die again right now. 

Not when everything was going so well. He looked at Abbie as she walked gracefully before him and he felt a swelling in his chest that could only be love. In his life, he had been in love only a few times but this... this was powerful. Everything that had happened with Katrina had been life-changing, too, back when it was happening. The world was turned upside down then and they had found each other and by doing so, set forth this new journey he was on. It all led him to this, and to Abbie. He had loved his wife but this thing with Abbie was so much more. It was undefinable and undeniable. 

She turned to him and gave him a reassuring smile. He wasn't sure what the plans were and neither was she but with that smile, he knew they'd get out of this just fine. Like always. 

Lund led them to a private room filled with a handful of people. He and Abbie were escorted to the front of the room and they both blinked against the bright lights. These lights were too bright for just a small demonstration... it was as if someone was going to film this. Their captor put down the case holding the stone and Crane looked at Abbie to see how they were going to play this. She showed some concern as she scanned the room, a hand shading her eyes, and he knew why as soon as he looked over the audience. 

Miss Jenny wasn't there. No one in the audience was anyone they knew. They were on their own. 

“Friends and associates,” Victor said, sounding like a ringmaster. “You are here for a show and I promise you, it will be something you've never seen before. After we have demonstrated the power of this artifact, I will open up the bidding for it. Tonight you'll get to see it work not once, but twice if need be. That should assuage any doubts that it's only good for one... act.”

Victor cracked open the case and pulled out the carefully wrapped stone. He took it out of the folded cloth and placed it on the padded display cushion on the table. It really wasn't anything spectacular to look at as far as artifacts went. Just an old stone. Without proof that it worked, Crane couldn't imagine that anyone would want to buy it. And here he and Abbie were to be that proof. One of Lund's assistants, a rather bulky man who was much taller than Crane, came up to the table and pulled on some leather gloves. Lund didn't even have the courage to kill them himself. Didn't want to be caught on camera doing the actual deed. 

“Should we give them a moment alone to say some final words to each other?” Lund asked. A few people in the audience mumbled 'no' while a few said 'yes' and after thinking about it for a few seconds, Lund motioned for them to say whatever they had to say. 

“Where's Jasmine?” Abbie asked Lund before she even bothered to turn to say anything to Crane. 

“Once I figured out her plan, I figured I didn't need her to get together a few collectors. Don't worry, she's safe and probably wondering where we are about now. This way, I don't have to share the profits with her,” he said quietly so all the people standing around the room couldn't hear him. 

This certainly changed things.

“You don't even know who you're murdering,” Abbie said, trying to find out how much Lund might have learned since he had left them to arrange this. 

“No, and I don't care. They don't care. They just want to see what the stone can do. Listen, if you two are going to say anything to one another before the end, now is the time,” Lund said, pushing Abbie closer to Crane. He pulled her away from that man and into his arms. 

“Are you sure this stone actually works?” she asked Crane as softly as she could, her cheek pressed against his chest. He had his head dipped down so anything he said wouldn't be heard by any of the others. 

“Honestly, I have no idea. I'll touch it. You get out of here, my dearest love. Promise me that you'll get out of here,” he said, holding her tight. 

“We go together. We live or die together,” she said, her arms wrapped tight around him, her fingers clutching the fabric of his coat. 

“It's not your time. I'm long past my time and we both have known that for a while. Long, long past it. Now that you know how I feel about you, it's okay. You are everything I could have hoped for in a new life. Everything. Without you, there would be nothing for me,” he said, his hand gently stroking her hair. 

“And I'm supposed to go on without you?” she asked, laughing nervously. “How?” 

“Because...” 

He didn't know the answer, really. She shouldn't be expected to be the survivor one more time. The strong one. The one who has to keep everyone else going. Abbie had done that enough. But he couldn't bear to think of a world without her in it. 

The audience was getting restless and were clamoring for something to happen. Lund grabbed Crane's shoulder and pulled him away from Abbie, spinning him toward the table. 

“I could kill her first and make you suffer just a few minutes longer before I kill you. Or I could kill you first and then you'll never truly know her fate, will you? Never know if I kill her or keep her,” Victor Lund asked as he pulled Crane front and center of the audience. The lights were now way too bright for him to see what was going on out there but he could hear them murmuring that they didn't care who was killed first. 

“I don't care what you do to me. Let her live,” Crane said. He knew that even if he died right here, if Abbie could get out of this room, she would fight her way to safety. He had to assure that Abbie would live. 

“I'd give her a nice life, you know. Like the one Aaron Andrews gave to Allison. Probably a better life than you could give her, whoever you are,” he said, leaning in closer to Crane. “Who are you? Oh, it doesn't matter to me anyway. Joshua? Give him the stone.”

The large man with gloves came forward with the gray-black stone in his hand. Victor moved so he was in the perfect position to see Crane and what was going to happen next. Crane looked quickly to Abbie and she now had a look of pure panic on her face. Like so long ago when he was going to kill himself in order to end this whole nightmare. Now he wanted nothing more than to live and he wasn't sure how he was going to manage that. Tears were streaming down both of their faces and he said 'I love you' before he was forced to turn away from her and to look at his captor. 

Joshua used one of his huge hands to hold Crane's slender hand still, palm up and opened. He looked Crane in the eye and grinned as Crane pulled against him, struggling and getting nowhere. Everything was going so fast now. He could hear Abbie shouting behind him. He could feel her hands pulling on his coat. He fought as hard as he could but he was overpowered right now by this huge man gripping his wrist. 

Then that same man dropped the stone onto Crane's palm. 

Momentarily everything went black followed by a light shimmering off in the distance and he could hear a soft, feminine voice whispering to him. He remembered the first time he died and he heard voices, but they were familiar. That was his wife and others in her coven. This voice was not familiar at all. It was telling him that she was unable to take what was once dead. He was safe. Nothing was going to happen to him. Nothing possibly could happen to either of them. As the room came back into focus, he saw Joshua as he kept stepping back away from him, looking from his boss to Crane. Then he turned around and ran from this fiasco before he was blamed for it. 

Crane looked Victor Lund straight in his shocked eyes and raised an eyebrow at him. This obviously wasn't how this was expected to go. 

“By the way, Mr. Lund, my name is Ichabod Crane and it's going to take more than this cursed stone to finally kill me,” Crane said. With that, he tossed the stone in Victor's direction. Lund reached up instinctively and caught the valuable artifact before it could hit the floor, perhaps believing that it would do nothing to him, either. 

He was wrong. 

Dead wrong. 

As Victor Lund's whole being began to turn to a fine shimmery powder that filled the air, the people in the room began to scream as they fled toward the door, trampling each other as they tried to get out. This seemed ridiculous to Crane since they had come here to see exactly that – a man die. There was a lot of activity happening outside the door with random shouts to put their hands in the air and get against the wall. 

The room was soon swarming with FBI agents, including Agent Reynolds. Dwyer and McCormick followed him in and made sure no one touched anything. Jenny and Joe came in and Abbie ran to her sister and hugged her. 

“When I was feeling up your boyfriend earlier, I put a tracking device in his pocket along with a ward I hoped would protect him from whatever ancient evil was inhabiting that stone. I knew if Lund double-crossed me and pulled a stunt like this, Crane would volunteer to go first... this time,” Jenny said. Crane reached into his trouser pockets and pulled out the small metal tracking device and a piece of paper that went up in flames as soon as it was exposed to the light. 

“Thank you for getting here,” Abbie said, clutching her sister tight. 

“Yes, thank you, Miss Jenny,” Crane said. Abbie left her sister's arms and fell into Crane's. He didn't want to ever let her go and he kissed the top of her head over and over. Danny Reynolds' expression was that of a man who had lost but he straightened his shoulders and went about ordering the other agents on what would need to be done next. 

“When he was forcing that stone into your hand, did you know it wasn't going to kill you? Did you sense anything?” Abbie asked, pulling back and looking him in the eyes. 

“No.” 

She swatted his arm before hugging him tightly again. 

“Ichabod Crane, don't you do it again,” she said, admonishing him further. “I can't do this without you.”

“Nor I without you,” he said, leaning down to kiss her long and hard. When they finally broke the kiss, he looked at her seriously. “If it had worked... if it had killed me... what was your next move?” 

“Oh, don't you ever doubt it... I planned to kill them all and then get the hell out of here!” 

*^*^*^*^*^*^*^*

It has been a long night of debriefings while explaining the story over and over. They had watched Agents McCormick and Dwyer bicker over how they were ever going to explain this to their superiors even though they had found the video footage Victor Lund had been recording. Crane didn't really care how the two agents planned to document this in their report. He just wanted to get back to the apartment and go to sleep. With Abbie in his bed. 

She turned to him and gave him a weary smile. As much as he would like to do a million other things to her in that glorious bed before they had to leave it behind, he also knew they both needed to sleep for a while. Finally Agent Reynolds told them he would call the car and they could go and that they would have one more day in the apartment to rest up before they were driven back to Sleepy Hollow. Crane was sad to be leaving all the luxury behind but he also knew that they were going home... their home... in Sleepy Hollow. 

Abbie hugged her sister and Joe again before bidding them goodnight. Joe Corbin had to be at work in a few hours and Jenny had people to meet... or so she said. Crane had half expected Abbie to ask them to spend the night at the apartment but Jenny didn't seem interested. Then again, she did live in a trailer. A nice trailer but it didn't come with surround sound. 

They were snuggled under the blankets in bed together when Abbie asked him about the few moments he seemed to have blacked out when he was holding the stone. 

“Did I?” he asked. It had gone so fast that he was unaware that any such thing had happened. It didn't look like anything in particular on the recording. He just looked like he was thinking and talking to himself. Nothing too unusual. No one had asked when they were telling the story over and over and he didn't really want to share it all with the FBI anyway. Well, besides Agent Mills. He'd share everything with her. 

“You were gone. You said a few things but you were pretty much elsewhere,” Abbie said. Her fingers were running across his bare chest and he really didn't even want to think about anything more than the sensation of her touch. When he didn't answer immediately, she stopped and tapped him, urging him to answer. 

“There was a voice telling me that what was once dead couldn't die. I assume it meant this way... perhaps it has to do with the myth behind the stone. It assured me that we would both be safe through this situation. I'll have to look into it more when we get home,” he said. 

“Home's going to seem so tiny and quaint after all of this,” Abbie said with a sigh. 

“If you agree to share your bed and your life with me, home is going to be perfect,” Crane said. Abbie propped herself up on an elbow and stared down at him. 

“Are you proposing?” she asked. Earlier, the FBI had taken the Andrews' rings from them to ensure they got back to the proper people and he kept looking at her bare ring finger. He would never be able to offer her the kind of ring she had been wearing or the kind of life that Allison Andrews had. He knew she didn't really want any of that, anyway. He was sure hopeful the FBI would let her keep the shoes with the red soles, though. 

“Yes, I think I am,” he said and she laughed, shaking her head. 

“Let's hold off on making that big of a decision for a while until the excitement dies down. Today was a crazy day. I need a little time to think about things before we run off to Vegas and tie the knot,” Abbie said, settling down beside him again.

“Is Las Vegas your next assignment?” Crane asked, cocking his eyebrow at her. “Perhaps a gambling ring of zombies we need to break up?” 

“You never know,” she said. “Mills and Crane, going undercover all over the nation.”

“Under the covers here would be just fine with me,” he said, slipping under the down comforter and skimming his lips over her breasts and abdomen before going down further. 

“More than fine,” Abbie mumbled when he settled between her thighs. As his tongue explored her body, he was incredibly thankful to be alive and able to enjoy the taste and sound of her once more. 

*^*^*^*^*^*^*^*

Epilogue 

Three Months Later...

“We need a bigger bathtub,” Abbie said as she straddled Crane in her standard size and very ordinary white tub. The shower curtain was pulled back and the bubbles that were piled high earlier were starting to fade away. 

“You've been saying that since we got back from the city,” Crane said, his hands wrapped around her waist as she slid up and down his cock, soapy water splashing over the side of the tub and onto the tile floor. 

“It's true. After the tub there... why didn't we ever do it in that tub?” she asked. 

“We ran out of time and the FBI wanted their property back. We did manage to do it on the piano, the leather couches, both beds, those fabulous granite counter tops in the kitchen, the shower with all those pulsating shower heads and for some strange reason, a colorful light display... we just ran out of time for the bathtub,” Crane said.

“Thus I need a bigger one to make me happy,” Abbie said, her inner muscles clenching around his cock. He stopped moving and looked at her, his eyebrow asking the question his mouth was not. “Tub that is. Everything else is just fine. More than fine.”

She kissed him as if she was trying to convince him to take on some massive home improvement project. Right now, with what she was doing, he would agree to anything. Her mouth moved from his lips to jaw and then his neck, sucking so hard on a spot that it was sure to leave a mark. He didn't care. She could mark him as hers forever. Soon, with the wedding and a ring on his finger, she would. 

“I like our home,” Crane said, finding it more and more difficult to form coherent sentences the more she moved. “Like other things, it's the perfect size.”

“Imagine what I could do to you in a tub like the one in that apartment. Imagine it, Crane,” she said. 

He moved one hand down from her waist and under the water, seeking out her clit. She moaned at his touch and stopped moving for just a few seconds as his fingers stroked her just like she enjoyed it the most. It wasn't long before she was coming, her head thrown back in ecstasy as she felt her muscles clench and release around his cock. 

She soon managed to focus on his wide eyes until he closed them as he came, filling her completely and promising her everything she had ever wanted. When he finally opened his eyes again, she was still staring at him, a smile on her face. 

“What?” he asked. 

“You're right. This is perfect... for now at least. Maybe someday we'll need a bigger house... for reasons, but for today, this is good. All good,” she said, looking around her and enjoying everything for what it was. Her house. Their house. “But I wouldn't mind if we got dressed up in some of that clothes the FBI forgot about and went out to dinner. Can we do that? We haven't really celebrated the engagement.”

“You desire for me to wear trousers and not breeches?” Crane asked, cringing at the mere thought of zippers and boxer briefs. Maybe he'd skip the briefs. 

“Trousers, yes. And that shirt that goes with my favorite blue tie... the one that matches your eyes,” Abbie said. She gave him a kiss on the tip of his nose and stood up with his help, water dripping everywhere. She grabbed a fluffy towel and dried off a little before stepping out of the tub and wrapping herself in another towel, her hair still piled neatly on her head. “You wear that and I'll wear those shoes you like.”

“With the red...? Oh, I like those,” he asked, his voice low and filled with lust, genuinely intrigued by her offer. 

“Yes. Those,” she said, smiling at him and his love of those shoes. 

“If you wear those, I promise you that we can stop at the home improvement store on the way back and you can pick out any bathtub you desire. I'll refashion this bathroom by hand,” Crane said, sitting up in the bathtub and pulling the drain plug so the water could flow out. He got out and dried himself off, wrapping the towel low around his hips. He stood behind Abbie, who was looking in the mirror and rubbing moisturizer into her skin, her engagement ring shining in the lights, and wrapped his arms around her. 

“Crane, I really do like our life now. Like this. I'm glad that we were sent on that assignment and got to 'play' in that other reality, but this is us. This is better than anything else ever could be,” Abbie said. 

“I love you, Mrs. Andrews,” Crane said, kissing the top of Abbie's head. She smiled at his reflection. A big, bright, glorious smile. 

“And I love you, Mr. Andrews,” she said, turning in his arms, standing up on her tip-toes and giving him a kiss. 

*^*^*^*^*^*^*^*

THE END


End file.
